Team work
by kimmary
Summary: A weekend training camp brings the team together in more ways than one. Abby has a plan to get Tony and Ziva to realise what they all know, but will it be enough - or will Tony slip back into his playboy ways?
1. Chapter 1 The set up

**Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS or any of the characters. I do, however, lay claim to my own creations.**

A/N: This is my first fanfic - so please review.... PS: I am South African, so some of the spellings may differ

**Chapter one - The set up**

It seemed innocent enough - the notification emailed out to the various departments announcing that this year's training would be a weekend camp of sorts. Aptly named training day, the annual event involving NCIS, FBI, CIA and other governmental agencies. But this was the first time that it had been extended to a three-day event and would be a refresher course – combining both the theory and practical needed to ensure the agents all performed at their peak.

Tony DiNozzo sat in front of his computer reading the information as the other two agents listened.

"During the course of the weekend," the missive stated, "agents will be involved in hand-to-hand combat and evasive techniques, participate in a 15 mile cross-country run and obstacle course and have to undergo firearm testing."

"Yes!" said Ziva excitedly. She was concerned that she had become weak, no that wasn't it… soft, yes. She was concerned she had become soft since joining NCIS. The need for her particular skills in this line of work was a rarity, rather than the norm. She was looking forward to being able to extend some energy in this way, without the usual fallout and paperwork.

As Tony continued to read, she moved from her desk towards where he was sitting.

"This will be broken up with lectures on forensic evidence, latest rules and regulations regarding arrests and interrogation, and of course the favourite – office etiquette…."

"Ahh yes… the green, yellow and red light offences," McGee intoned, just as Abby bounded into the bullring, hugging Tony tightly as she passed by.

"Did you guys hear, of course you did… that's what you are looking at now right… carry on reading, it's the best part." She said, her pigtails bouncing with enthusiasm.

"The conference, for want of a better word, will culminate in an awards/dinner-dance to be held on the Saturday evening, and as the venue is only two hours outside of Washington, partners are invited to join in the festivities and stay over on Saturday night…" read Ziva, sitting down on Tony's recently vacated chair.

"Yes," Tony punched the air. "We get to stay at a hotel for the weekend and all at the government's expense!"

Abby and McGee exchanged a quick look. As McGee was on the preparation committee, they already knew this, and had a plan up their sleeves. They had spent the last week quietly plotting and laying the foundations to what Abby dubbed: "Mission: Tiva".

Knowing how competitive their co-workers were, Abby and McGee had been quietly needling them, and almost had them where they wanted them.

Thursday evening, as they sat having drinks after work, Abby put the final play into motion.

The debate had been going on all week – that age-old discussion on men and women, and who were the master seducers. The women, of course believed they were, while the men insisted they could be. A few drinks later and the dare issued by the two antagonists, was accepted and quickly followed up by a bet.

Abby and McGee smiled quietly. Tony and Ziva were so predictable.

Their involvement was complete. It was now up to the two sitting opposite to follow through. The bet was simple enough. Tony and Ziva would try their utmost to seduce the other and all it would take was for the loser to admit that the other had won. The winner would not only have bragging rights, but a willing slave for a week, who would have to fulfill every wish. Tony had already earmarked a stack of paperwork and reports that he had outstanding, while Ziva was planning renovations to her bathroom, with Tony as the able handyman. The deal was sealed by a round of tequila.

* * *

10am on Friday morning found Tony and Ziva standing outside the same hotel room, their hands reaching for the handle. "Hang on, I think there has been a mistake," Tony said, confused. "Ziva, are you sure that you are in room 452?"

"I know that English is only one of many languages that I am fluent in, but yes, I have been able to recognise numbers for some time now," she muttered, staring him down.

"Look," she added, shoving the room number under his nose. "4-5-2. Perhaps it is you, who is mistaken."

Tony pulled the crumpled paper out of his back pocket, taking his time to straighten it out. "Umm…We seem to have been issued the same room?"

Just then a stifled giggle erupted from the doorway opposite.

"Abby-" both said at the same time.

Abby sheepishly popped out into the passageway. Putting her arms around their shoulders, she looked furtively around before leaning in again.

"You see, it's like this. McGee and I, well… we are considering rekindling our fledgling romance and what better way than this weekend right? So, we swopped out rooms with you. We didn't think you would mind. After all, it's not like you haven't shared before right? Please say yes guys, please.... Thank you so much, you won't regret it."

By the time Tony and Ziva had processed the information, they were staring at the door which had been firmly shut in their faces.

"Well… how do you like them apples?" Tony asked quietly.

"Tony, how can you think of food at a time like this?" Ziva answered.

Shaking her head, she opened the door, letting it swing shut in Tony's face for the second time in as many minutes.

Reaching his hand up to rub the back of his head, he stood looking up and down the hotel passageway.

"This weekend is about to get interesting," he said, before reluctantly entering the room.

* * *

In room 453, Abby stood with her back to the door, giggling. "So Tim, do you think our plan will work?" She asked the agent who ws sitting on the bed with his computer. "It better," he added. "You won't believe it, but the odds are back to 50/50".

The news of the bet had spread like wildfire, and McGee, seeing a perfect opportunity had quickly opened the wager up, as everyone wanted to back whom they thought would be the first to crumble.

In the last half an hour, seeing Tony and Ziva arrive together, 15 more bets had been placed, with Tony taking the lead.

However, after the lift incident, that resulted in Tony having to take the stairs, while Ziva smirked her way to the forth floor, the odds had evened out again.

Across the hall, Ziva and Tony were discussing their predicament as they stared at the king size bed in front of them.

They come to the conclusion that, one, they had shared a room and a bed before, even if it was while under surveillance and two, it was just a stupid bet right… It didn't mean anything.

"I mean, it is not as I am attracted to you," Ziva continued, taking a step towards him.

"Right, we are partners and well, you aren't even my type," Tony added, moving closer to her.

"What – breathing?" Ziva smirked, tilting her head to one side.

"Hahahah… funny. You know what I mean. But, just to be sure…" Tony whispered, closing the gap.

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	2. Chapter 2 Fight or flight

**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or the characters portrayed, I do however, still lay claim to my own creations, whom you will be meeting shortly.**

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, you are all awesome. When you write, you don't know how others will react to your words and stories, so please keep reviewing - it is all appreciated!

**Recap: **

_"Right, we are partners and well, you aren't even my type," Tony added, moving closer to her._

_"What – breathing?" Ziva smirked, tilting her head to one side. _

_"Hahahah… funny. You know what I mean. But, just to be sure…" Tony whispered, closing the gap._

**Chapter two - fight or flight**

He reached his hand up behind her head, pulling her closer, her lips parted slightly in surprise and he took the opportunity. What was meant to be a gentle kiss escalated quickly into a passionate embrace.

Breaking away to catch their breath, they stared, daring the other to say something, anything to break the moment that hung between them.

"So Zi-vaahh," Tony broke first. "Feel anything, anything at all?"

"Aah-no…no not at all. And you?" her tongue fell over the words.

"Nope, nothing."

"Well, that's good then, makes this all the more challenging. Um, we had, we had better… we due in the gym." she added, as she backed away from him, stumbling towards the door, her hand reaching behind her as she fumbled for the door handle.

Only when she was out in the passageway, the door solid behind her, did she give into her shaking legs and sunk to the ground, her head in her hands.

"Ziva," Abby peered out of her open door. "Are you okay," she asked curiously, stepping out into the passageway.

Ziva lifted her head and looked at Abby. "Fine, totally, fine. Why do you ask?"

Abby took in the heat in her eyes, the flushed cheeks and tousled hair. "Ziva, is that stubble burn on your chin?"

"What. No. No. Of course not." She answered, rubbing her chin furiously.

What's the time anyway?" A glance at her watch made Ziva realise just how late they were. She stood quickly and tugged Abby along with her. "Come on Abs, we are going to be late and Gibbs is taking this session." The two of them tore down the passageway.

Tony meanwhile, was himself trying to regain some semblance of normality. Without looking at the door Ziva had recently exited, he marched over to the bathroom, turned the shower on full blast and stood, fully clothed underneath. He rested his head against the cool tiles. "DiNozzo, what are you doing?" he muttered to himself.

* * *

The rest of the agents were busy running suicides and Gibbs blew his whistle to keep them moving. The whistle dropped from his mouth and he raised one eyebrow as Tony tried to get past him and join the rest of his team.

"Aaaaah, sorry Boss. Something came up."

"I'm sure it did, DiNozzo, I'm sure it did." Gibbs answered drily, adding "Enjoy the cold shower?"

"You know me, got to be nice and squeaky clean…." He looked around at the gym."…. when I work out and get sweaty."

"Drop and give me 30 DiNozzo," said Gibbs, shaking his head.

"Sorry, Boss? I mean, that old knee injury is acting up…" Tony's voice trailed off.

Gibbs' hand snuck out, catching Tony unaware on the back of his head.

"Make that 50 DiNozzo."

Watching out the rest of the team out of the corner of his eye, he added, "Oh and Ziva, you can wipe that smirk off your face, unless you want to join him."

The smile that had been tugging at Ziva's lips disappeared immediately and a dull red flush tinged her throat and face. She dropped her head and sped up, already ahead of the rest of the pack, now leaving them in her wake.

Agent Lani Sedgewick came up to stand next to Gibbs. Her long brown hair wrapped in a loose bun on her head, wisps escaping and resting on her cheeks. She smiled, her blue eyes twinkling. "Running the team hard I see, some things never change."

Gibbs looked over to her, his eyes taking her in from head to toe, before leaning over and giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek. "No, no they don't" he said appreciatively. "It's been a while."

Snapping back, he looked over at the agents breathing heavily, all at various states of collapse. Except for Ziva, who stood, leaning against the wall, arms and legs crossed, a bemused expression on her face.

"What's this," snapped Gibbs. "Holiday camp? Time for hand-to-hand combat. I want one of you to act as the assailant. Oh, and Tony, partner Ziva on this one." He added almost as an afterthought.

"What, you are kidding me right? She is a trained assassin…" Tony's words trailed off, as he saw Ziva straighten up and glared at him.

"Which is why I am partnering you up. You are the only one who has the skills to take her on," Gibbs said, before heading towards the bleachers.

"You really think so, Boss?" He puffed his chest up as Ziva marched purposefully up to him. "Come on Tony, beast up," she muttered.

"Ahhh, I think you meant man up… but, I suppose, beast works just as well…" Tony said, following her to the training mat, slight trepidation in his step.

"You don't _really _believe that, do you," Lani asked Gibbs as he sat down next to her.

"No, of course not. But, the other team leaders have specifically requested that Ziva not be partnered with any of their agents - something to do with the fact that two of them were out of commission for three weeks, following our last joint tactic training. And besides, Tony is the only one that won't go easy on her." He added, chuckling slightly.

Lani looked at him sideways: "Are you sure about that?"

"Very," he stated, without turning to look at her, his full attention focused on the mat, where Tony as the assailant was getting a beating. "In fact, watch this…"

Gibbs stood up, and blew his whistle. "Right, assailants, swop over."

"All of us, Boss?" Tony asked. "Of course, all of us," he muttered, answering for Gibbs. Ziva just smirked as Gibbs blew his whistle again.

Standing behind Tony, Ziva gripped his right hand and bending it backwards, forced him onto his knees in front of her. But, he was ready. Shifting his weight, he kicked his left leg out, hooking Ziva's leg and unbalancing her.

As she fell forward, she let go his wrist. Using this opportunity, he reached up and pulled her over his shoulder.

Ziva landed with a thud on the mat in front of him as he spun round and straddled her. Holding her wrists above her head with one hand, he ticked her mercilessly, keeping her imprisoned. She shrieked at him, trying to twist out, but too no avail.

"Good DiNozzo. Clever move," said Gibbs, overhead, sneaking up as he usually does. The tickling stopped immediately. Tony lifted his head, his eyes meeting Gibbs'.

"Although, interesting technique utilised in the last part. I don't know if you would necessarily tickle your attacker into submission. Try that again." Gibbs added.

As Tony levered his weight, Ziva took the advantage, shoving her knee up hard. Tony grimaced, and rolled oft. Taking a deep breath he pushed himself up onto his feet and assumed the position.

For a second time, Ziva pulled a move she was sure would work, and for a second time, Tony was ready for her.

Ziva thudded onto the mat, face forward, and this time her head connected with a sharp crack on the floor. She winced as Tony fell heavily on her, before scrambling up and grinding his knee in her back, her arms twisted up behind her.

"Better DiNozzo," Gibbs said, almost with a tinge of approval in his voice. From her position, Ziva glared at him. A small cut oozed blood.

"That's it," She uttered through clinched teeth. "No more good guy."

"I think you meant nice guy, Zi-vah," Tony smirked. But he eased off her back, and stood, offered her a hand up.

Ziva pushed it away, her hand lifted to her head and pulling it away, she glared at Tony darkly, waving her fingers in front of his nose. "Blood Tony. You drew blood."

By this time, the other agents had stopped, waiting to see what would unfold. They were all well aware of Ziva's assassin connections, and some had even been on the receiving end of her razor-sharp tongue and quick hand.

But for the number that were cheering on Tony, an equal number were rooting for Ziva – finding Tony a mixture of arrogance and irritation that needed to be brought down to size.

"Right," Gibbs said, noticing how his female agent was seething. "Perhaps we should …"

"No!" His two agents answered simultaneously, standing toe-to-toe.

"We finish this, yes?" Ziva asked, smiling sweetly, first at Tony and then at Gibbs.

Tony raised his eyebrows. Gibbs just shook his head, and turning back to the bleachers, he shrugged his shoulders. "Just don't kill each other," he said.

Abby and Ducky, exempt from this session (hand-to-hand tactics are not deemed necessary in autopsy or the lab) had joined Lani on the bleachers.

"What's Gibbs doing? I mean, look at them. Tony is usually such a gentleman, and now Ziva is bleeding. What are you thinking, Gibbs?" Abby's caffeine-induced sentence came out a top speed that left her breathless and Lani more than a little confused.

"They can look after themselves," Gibbs answered laconically.

"Either that, or kill each other," he added as an afterthought.

Down on the mats, the two in question were warily circling each other. Each waited for the right moment to pounce on the other.

Just then, a beautiful blonde walked into the hall. Tony's attention was caught for a moment, but it was long enough.

Ziva in mid-kick was too committed to pull back in time and slammed Tony square in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he thumped hard to the ground.

His eyes closed, his head lolling to the side.

"Tony," she said concerned, bending over him.

A small smile twitched on his features, as he grabbed her arms and pulling his knees up, flipped Ziva over and onto the floor.

He stood up and bowed deeply to the watching audience, not seeing Ziva scrabble up onto her hands and knees. She reached out and yanked at his ankles.

Tony fell hard, a crunch heard as his head connected with the laminated floor. Breathing heavily, the two sat, glaring at each other.

"I dink you broke my dose," Tony muttered, blood streamed out of his nose as he clutched at it.

"Okay, that's it!" Gibbs yelled, smacking them both hard on the backs of their heads as they tried to stand up.

"Ouch" they screamed, their heads knocking together.

"Ducky, please come fix these two idiots up, then hit the showers all of you. You have 45 minutes before your next session." Gibbs muttered loudly.


	3. Chapter 3 Dazed and confused

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the NCIS orginal characters. I do however, still lay claim to my own creations, the second of whom you will be meeting in this chapter.**

A/N: Thanks for all the awesome reviews, and please, if you like the story keeping leaving them! It lets me know if I am on the right track or not.... And for those of you who are concerned that this fan fic will not be completed, fear not. As they say on the small screen - stay turned.

**Recap:**

_Tony fell hard, a crunch heard as his head connected with the laminated floor. Breathing heavily, the two sat, glaring at each other. _

"_I dink you broke my dose," Tony muttered, blood streamed out of his nose as he clutched at it. _

"_Okay, that's it!" Gibbs yelled, smacking them both hard on the backs of their heads as they tried to stand up. _

"_Ouch" they screamed, their heads knocking together. _

"_Ducky, please come fix these two idiots up, then hit the showers all of you. You have 45 minutes before your next session." _

**Chapter Three - Dazed and Confused**

Tony walked into the hotel room, followed closely by Ziva. She had needed five stitches in her head, which Ducky had quickly done while she sat stoically. Tony's nose was not broken, much to his disgust, but he still had two large wads of cotton wool wedged up his nose.

He flopped onto the bed, still moaning about the pain and the fact that he was probably going to have a black eye.

"Had you not been so busy watching that blonde, you might have avoided the pain," muttered Ziva, with absolutely no sympathy. Digging in her backpack, she unscrewed a container of aspirin and popped two into her mouth, washing down with the bottle of water sitting beside the bed.

"Hah, that's what I wanted you to think. My plan was masterful in its cunning," challenged Tony, rolling over onto his side and watching her as she rummaged in her luggage.

"Really," she said, standing with her hands on her hips. "So it was your plan all along for me to mash you into the ground?"

"Well, putting it that way. I didn't expect you to go all psycho ninja on me, if that is what you are asking," he answered defensively, slowly pulling the cotton wool out of his nose.

His voice trailed off as he noticed her taking her clothes off. "Um, Ziva. Not that I am complaining, but… what are you doing?"

"Taking a shower – like Gibbs suggested." She explained, turning away from him, now only in her underwear. As she walked towards the shower, she unclipped her bra and stepped out of her panties leaving Tony speechless behind her.

"There is still a bet to be won, yes?" she asked, peeking around the doorframe before she ducked into the shower.

Tony wasted no time, stripping off his own clothes, he walked towards the sound of running water.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, as he climbed in behind her. "Just what you suggested." He answered, grinning wolfishly. "I mean, we do have only half an hour to get to our next lecture."

"You make one unauthorised move and you will have more than a broken nose to contend with," she muttered, soaping her hair.

Tony watched the water run down her naked back. "To-ny," she warned. "That had better not be what I think it is."

She turned to look at him, staring into his eyes as she leaned in towards him. Ducking under his arm and out of the shower, she grabbbed her towel off the rail, laughing. Tony reached forward, and for the second time that day, turned the shower full blast onto cold. "This cannot be happening," he groaned inwardly.

Ziva had already left the room by the time Tony exited from the bathroom.  
Quickly dressing, he made his way to where they would be having their afternoon lecture, again wondering what he had gotten himself into.

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* * *

Abby was giving the final lecture of the day – Forensic Evidence and Procedure – perhaps boring to some, but when the NCIS resident goth was taking a lecture, it was anything but.

She had dressed conservatively today, at least, she thought so. Her black skirt skimmed the tops of her thighs, her legs ending in long red and white stripped socks and chunky platforms.

Her black t-shirt was unadorned, except for a pair of silver wings painted on the back by her shoulder blades. Her hair was tied into her two uniform pigtails.

But she had left off her customary spiked chocker and all her bracelets and didn't even have any of her rings on.

She walked up to the lectern and stood, looking over at the sea of faces, trying to pick out her favourites so that she could focus on them instead.

Gibbs was standing by the door, as was Lani. But, to her surprise, McGee, Ziva and Tony were not sitting together like she expected.

McGee was in the front row, like they had planned. But Ziva, rushing in late only managed to get a seat near the back. She slouched down in her chair, her head resting slightly in her hand – thoughtful.

Tony, was sitting on the other side of the room. The only remaining free seat. He had made it just before the conference doors were closed, slightly out of breath and completely confused.

From her position at the front, Abby took this all in and wondered what had happened.

McGee, bless him, realising that panic was setting in, quickly gave her a thumbs up. She shook her head slightly, and focusing on McGee, began her lecture.

It went smoothly, and Abby was able to answer the questions asked. And there seemed to be a lot of them. She had impressed even the most seasoned agents with her sound knowledge and skill. Even as the group was dismissed, she was still fielding questions.

They had been given a free night to do with what they wanted. The only stipulation was that they needed to be ready and waiting outside by 6am Saturday to do their fitness tests, which would encompass a 15 mile cross country run and obstacle course. This would be followed by more lectures, firearms testing and then, the mandatory prize-giving dinner and dance in the evening.

McGee was standing with Tony as Ziva made her way through the throng of people. Seeing her approach, Tony mentioned something about meeting up with them in the hotel bar later and quickly backed out of the room.

Ziva stood, a mixture of confusion and hurt on her face as she watched him retreat. Abby managed to break away from her newest fan base, and linking her arms between Ziva and McGee pulled them off towards the direction of the bar.

* * *

A few minutes later, the trio was sitting comfortably, drinks in front of them. Tony entered the bar, and Abby noticing him, jumped up and started waving madly.

Seeing no way of escaping Tony dragged his hand through his hair and sighing deeply, made his way over. He was about to sit down, when he heard his name being shouted across the room.

"Hay DiNozzo, still have a way with the ladies I see?" The voice belonged to a tall, dark, muscular man, neatly dressed in jeans and polo shirt. His accent gave him away immediately, as did his name when introduced to the team.

"This is Patrick Sinclair, previously with the Baltimore PD. I didn't know you had joined us?" Tony added looking over to Patrick.

"Well, actually, I'm FBI. Been with them two years now, but only recently transferred to Washington," he said sitting down next to Ziva.

"To be honest, I just wanted to meet the woman who was able to take you down like that. Nice moves," he added, leaning in towards her, smiling.

She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the compliment as she studied him quietly.

"I need a drink," said Tony under his breath as he lifted his hand to call the waitress over.

Half an hour later, after watching Patrick enthrall the team with yet another story that involved Tony making a fool of himself, and feeling slightly annoyed with Ziva seemingly lapping up Patrick's obvious attention, Tony stood.

"I am going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"

Orders were placed for another round and Tony moved off to place the order. As he stood waiting, he turned to look back at the group, casually slouching against the counter.

Ziva tilted her head back and a peel of laughter echoed through the busy room while Patrick looked mischeviously on.

Tony couldn't understand why his friend from the past was grating him so much. After all, what did it matter who his current partner flirted with.

It wasn't as if they were dating, he didn't even think of her that way. It was just this silly dare that had turned into a bet.

He was a red-blooded male after all. He was a DiNozzo and, well, let's be honest, he hadn't even kissed anyone since the Jeanne debacle, let alone anything else.

Of course, Ziva was sexy and had a body to die for – almost. He chuckled inwardly thinking back to that day they diffused the bomb and he told her that what he saw down her shirt wasn't worth dying for. She was so offended.

He loved the closeness, the camaraderie they shared. The fact that he knew her and she knew him better than anyone else.

He knew what she was really like, that he could make her smile or snarl with a simple word or gesture. That was it, he thought, it's just because she is my partner and I am looking out for her. Sinclair is a player, one night stands are his thing and the bigger the challenge the more determined he is.

"I just don't want to see Ziva get hurt, that is all it is," he added to himself. His reactions, well, more pedantically, his body's reactions were just because, well… it had been a long time. That's all.

Looking up from his musings, he noticed a pair of blue eyes on him. The blonde who had walked into the gym earlier that day.

She smiled, and gave him that look, the one that said anything was possible.

The barman cleared his throat waiting for the order, Tony quickly told him what drinks, and glancing over to the blonde again, he gestured, pointing to his drink. She smiled and lifted her wine glass, nodding.

"Here you go, and please, can you make sure the order goes to that table over there," as he handed over the cash and pointed to where the team sat.

Picking up his own beer, and the glass of white wine, he made his way over to the blonde and sat down. His back purposefully to the table he had just left.

His decision meant that he missed Ziva looking up in surprise when a waitress brought their drinks instead of Tony. Scanning the bar, she found him, getting cosy with the beautiful blonde.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, before she turned back to the group. No one noticed the change, other than Abby of course.

Abby's eyes followed where Ziva's had been looking and she gasped, loudly. Everyone at the table looked at her.

"Oh," she said, recovering quickly. "I really think it is time for a shooter, tequila anyone?" She asked before calling over the waitress to place the order.

A few hours later, the blonde was practically sitting in Tony's lap and he didn't seem to be complaining.

Ziva had reached boiling point, and couldn't contain herself any longer. Patrick and the other two looked up in surprise as Ziva stood.

"I have had enough," she said. "I think I need some fresh air."

Patrick offered to escort her out, but she smiled at him and told him to stay, she would see them all in the morning.

Just as the others were trying to convince her to have one more drink, Gibbs, Ducky and Lani joined the table, and Ziva used this as the perfect opportunity to slip outside.


	4. Chapter 4 Run, baby run

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Disclaimer: I still don't own the NCIS crew, but the other characters are all mine, all mine, I say...

A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. They mean so much... Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Recap: _A few hours later, the blonde was practically sitting in Tony's lap and he didn't seem to be complaining. _

_Ziva had reached boiling point, and couldn't contain herself any longer. _

"_I have had enough," she said. "I think I need some fresh air." _

_Just as the others were trying to convince her to have one more drink, Gibbs, Ducky and Lani joined the table, and Ziva used this as the perfect opportunity to slip outside. _

**Chapter Four – Run, baby run**

Realising that she needed a physical outlet, Ziva rushed back to then hotel room and changed into her running gear.

Pulling her hair up into a pony, she jammed her feet into her trainers and quickly locked the door. The evening air was chilled, but it did not matter.

She set off at a steady pace, her feet pounding the pavement. Without meaning to, she found herself running past the hotel bar, and saw Tony and the blonde outside leaning against a lamp post. He had wrapped his arms around her and was kissing her like it was oxygen to him.

Ziva didn't realise there were tears on her cheeks until she felt them, like tiny icicles clinging to her face.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." she berated herself. "America has made you soft."

She ran until she couldn't run anymore. Stopping, she leaned against a tree to catch her breath. Looking at her watch, she was surprised to find it was past three in the morning. Turning around she headed back to the hotel.

The bar was dark as she made her way passed. With a heavy heart, she climbed the stairs and taking a deep breath, quietly slid her card into the door.

She had expected the room to be empty. After all, she knew Tony could be a dog, but surely he respected her enough not to bring someone back to their room. That would be beneath even him.

She stepped into the room, and stared in disbelief. Hurt and anger coursing through her veins. Tony lay on his belly diagonally across the tussled sheets –naked. He snored gently, the drunken sound of one to many.

She didn't know how long she sat there, leaning against the wall, staring at the man she thought she knew. A previous conversation ran through her mind.

"_She is a girl. The Tony you were becoming needs a woman, or at least I thought he did."_

Clearly, this Tony wasn't ready for that. Sighing deeply, she pushed herself up and left the room.

She didn't feel tired. Mossad training often meant going 24 hours without sleep. And she had too much energy to burn.

Again she found herself running, but this time kept it a short five miles. Stopping at a 24-hour café, she got herself a cup of coffee, which she nursed while staring out the window as the sky started to change in colour – dusky purple, to pale pink and firey orange as the sun came up. Looking at her watch she realised that she was going to be late – again.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­Tony could hear ringing in his ears. As he surfaced to consciousness he realised that the noise was coming from the bedside phone. "Your wake-up call," a polite voice sounded in his ear.

Groaning he rolled over and sat up. Ziva didn't come home last night. His head pounded and he knew that he had too much to drink. And they had the cross country this morning.

Banishing all thoughts of a naked Ziva lying draped over Sinclair, he climbed out of bed and threw on his running gear.

* * *

The agents were all assembled by the time Ziva jogged up.

Gibbs looked her over, "Out running early this morning?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

From his position on the ground, Tony barely lifted his head.

"Yes," responded Ziva curtly. "It was either that or kill someone, and I know how you frown on the latter."

Tony shook his head groggily. What was she on about? Had Sinclair tried something with her and been rebuked. Had she not wanted his advances?

His hands clenched into fists at his side. If Sinclair had done something to hurt her, he would … He stopped his musings midway, feeling, rather than seeing her eyes burrowing into him. Hot coals burning through his skin.

He looked at her, a slight smile on his face.

"A good night, yes?" she asked him icily.

He had the grace to hang his head slightly. "Overindulged somewhat, but all in all, I think it was worth it."

He stared at her, begging her to see what he was trying to say. Instead, her face went a deep shade of puce. Her features clinched and she had that ready-to-strike expression.

Luckily, Gibbs's whistle signified the start of the race, and the other agents pushed passed them, eager to take advantage and get ahead while they still could.

Ziva turned away from him, and started to move into the pack.

"Wait…. Ziva. Come on, wait…. Are you angry with me?" Tony asked, finally catching up to her and grabbing hold of her hand. She pulled away quickly.

"No Tony," she said resignedly. "I am angry with myself, I am merely disappointed with you."

And with that, she turned and disappeared into the undergrowth, leaving him standing open-mouthed. A sharp tap on the back of the head brought him back to his senses.

"This is a race, DiNozzo, not an old ladies tea party. Do you need an invitation – go!" His boss barked.

Shaking his head, still unsure of what crime he had committed, he picked up speed and tried to catch up to the others.

* * *

It was 10am and Ziva, had pushed herself to her limit. She could feel it. She had outrun her colleagues, and had so far managed to tackle the obstacle course with seemingly little effort.

Now, it was just a quick sprint to the finish line. She made it, stumbled over and collapsed into a dead faint as the other agents spilled in behind her.

Gibbs rushed over, and picking her up, gently placed her at the side where Ducky could take a look at her.

"It seems our fearless one has perhaps overdone it a tad Jethro," Ducky said quietly, as Ziva's eyes flickered open.

"Wha… What happened" she asked, her mouth suddenly dry.

"You fainted my dear," Ducky replied, quickly checking her over. "Doesn't seem to be any other damage." he added.

Abby pushed through the ogling spectators, a Caf-Pow at the ready. "Drink this Ziva, it will make you feel better and don't argue. I won't take no for an answer. Now drink," she said shoving the straw into Ziva's mouth. Ziva inhaled the drink gratefully.

"Ziva, when did you last eat?" Gibbs asked.

"Ummm, lunch yesterday, I think. Kind of lost my appetite" she answered quietly.

"And how far did you run?"

"About 20 miles last night, and around five this morning," she mumbled.

"As well as the 15 now?" asked Gibbs, shocked.

"Had a little excess energy needed to burn off," was her only answer.

Abby helped her up as Tony staggered over the finish line – last. His face took on a strange hue of green, and clutching at his mouth, he leaned over retching. "Attractive," said McGee drily.

He hadn't come in much earlier than Tony, but still couldn't believe that he had managed to beat the senior agent.

Glaring up at him, Tony reached forward and grabbed McGee's t-shirt, tugging at the bottom and wiping his mouth with it.

"What's going on there," he asked, concerned, tilting his head towards where Gibbs and Ducky were standing, supporting Ziva between them.

"Apparently, Ziva pushed herself to much, and fainted as she crossed the finish line," McGee answered.

"What did you do to her?" said Abby, coming up and tapping Tony on the chest. "She spent all of last night and this morning running. She could have died Tony," she added dramatically. "What did you do?"

"Who says it has anything to do with me?" Tony replied defensively, trying to cover his own insecurity.

* * *

Ziva was lying, curled up on her side sleeping when Tony entered the room. He looked down at her and sighed, deeply.

Ducky said she was suffering from mild dehydration and exhaustion, nothing a few hours of rest wouldn't sort out.

Gibbs had sent Ziva to her room, saying that she would be excused from the office etiquette seminar, but would need to attend both the interrogation guidelines and the firearm testing later that afternoon.

Tony couldn't understand what had driven her to act like that. He thought back to the previous night, and remembered seeing her, flirting back with Patrick and basking in his attention.

But then, come to think of it, when he turned around again, she had gone.

The blonde, while attractive, wasn't the most stimulating of company. But, he rationalised, what the hell. It had been too long and, he needed some clarity.

Afterwards, he had come back to the hotel room, and waited for Ziva.

When she didn't return, he cracked open the mini-bar, trying to drown out the images of her and Sinclair naked.

That was the last thing he remembered before the darkness took over.

Ziva snuffled in her sleep, pulling him back to reality. Gently kissing her forehead, he went to get ready for the next lecture.

* * *

She awoke a few hours later, a slight headache and stiffness, but nothing that couldn't be shaken off. Popping another painkiller, she stretched out and looked over at the clock. It was 2pm and if she didn't move it, she would be late – again.

The lecture went off without a hitch. Gibb's arch nemesis (or so he liked others to think) FBI agent Tobias Fornell was leading the lecture, and well, he did tend to look in her direction quite a lot while commenting on what was not acceptable within an interrogation room, as did a number of her colleagues, come to think of it. She slunk further into her seat, cursing the fact that she was sitting in the second to last row.

As soon as the lecture ended, she was first up and out of her seat, desperate to get onto the range and let off a little steam.

Tony caught up with her as she made it to the open-air firing range, where targets had been set up in the distance. Catching her arm, he looked at her concerned. "You okay?"

She shook him off, angrily. "I'm fine, Tony," she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, you sure seem it. Is it me, what have I done?" he asked again, almost plaintively.

She looked at him in complete amazement at the absurdness of his question.

"You don't get do you?" she asked, shaking her head. "You know Tony, when I saw you with that blonde…" she broke off, trying to find the correct expression. "bimbo, yes? I knew then that it was just a matter of time. I presumed that you would have some decency, some respect for me if not for her…." Again she trailed off.

"But, I guess I was wrong when I thought you had changed. No, not changed - grown up, matured…"

"Why do you care anyway?" Tony realised as he said the words that they were a mistake – still trying to do a mental tally as to what exactly Ziva did or didn't know.

"That is the point. I don't. " she threw back over her shoulder.

"My room – my bed, Tony," she hissed under her breath, as her name was called.

Pulling on her earmuffs and glasses, she took aim. Firing off two shots, followed by two more and then shifting her stance, she fired off another five. Without looking back, she leaned over and whispered in McGee's ear as he stood slightly behind her, then marched off the range.

McGee, with Ziva's target practice in his hand, walked over to where Tony was standing. "She says she will give you an hour to get ready for tonight, but she wants you gone by the time she gets back," McGee said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, and she said to give you this," he added almost apologetically, as he handed over the cardboard in his hand.

"Whoa, someone has anger issues," one of the other agents commented, looking at the target as he walked passed McGee and Tony. He stopped long enough to whisper into McGee's ear –"$30 on David," slipping the money into McGee's hand.

"She does care," Tony murmured to himself, as he looked down at the target – two perfect kill shots to the head, two to the heart, and five to the groin area.

Grinning, Tony walked back up the hill to the hotel, with McGee shaking his head behind him. Tonight was going to be interesting, that was for sure.

* * *

Ziva opened the door to the room with a heavy sigh. Her head was still aching, but she didn't want to take another painkiller, particularly since there was a long night ahead.

She didn't feel like facing another confrontation with Tony, this weekend had been exhausting enough.

The first thing she noticed was the dimmed lights and soft music playing. The second was the scent of jasmine and vanilla.

Walking into the bath room she gasped in surprise. Steam gently lifted off the prepared bath, the delicate scent was from the water itself – petals floating on surface.

Light from candles scattered along the side of the bath flickered and danced off the walls, illuminating a single glass of champagne.

Next to it was a note penned in Tony's handwriting. "Z - I'm sorry, x T."

Taking off her clothes, she slipped in the warm water, and leant back, lifting the glass of champagne to her lips. She smiled softly. No wonder he always got the girl, if this is how he treated them.

Her resolve hardened. She would not be one of those women.


	5. Chapter 5 Against the odds

**Disclaimer: Still don't own the NCIS crew - but still own my own creations!**

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry! Here in SA we have just had a long weekend. We went away and I left the flash disk with all the chapters on still attached to my work computer!!!! So, I hope the long chapter makes up for this. I had fun writing this... so enjoy xxxx

**Recap:** _Light from candles scattered along the side of the bath flickered and danced off the walls, illuminating a single glass of champagne. _

_Next to it was a note penned in Tony's handwriting. "Z - I'm sorry, x T"._

_Taking off her clothes, she slipped in the warm water, and leant back, lifting the glass of champagne to her lips. She smiled softly. No wonder he always got the girl, if this is how he treated them. _

_Her resolve hardened. She would not be one of those women._

**Chapter Five – Against the odds**

The others were waiting in the foyer, when Ziva made her appearance. A lull settled over the room, as she walked down the stairs, her green silk wrap dress clinging to her curves, delicate gold sandals, large gold hoop earrings and a wide gold bangle encircling her slim wrist, completed the picture.

She had lightly clipped her hair up; making sure the gauze covering her stitches was hidden from view. She looked amazing.

Every one noticed her slink, cat-like down into the foyer, everyone except McGee and DiNozzo who were busy arguing over who was paying for the round. While drinks were included in the dinner/dance, this first round outside, was not.

Hearing McGee's gasp of appreciation, Tony turned round – and promptly let go the glass of wine he had ordered for Ziva. It smashed on the floor, and he quickly ordered another.

Ziva, meanwhile had made her way over the rest of the group.

Everyone had gone all out for this event – wearing smart suits – except Ducky, who was wearing his family kilt and sporran. Even Abby had made an effort, dressed in a slinky black number and, wait for it, heels… Lani was wearing a turquoise creation that matched her eyes, and clearly Gibbs was having a problem keeping his off her.

As Tony and McGee walked up to the others, Gibbs pulled him aside. "$150 on it being a mutual decision – no clear winner, no clear loser."

"What Boss? You are condoning the breaking of rule 12?" asked McGee flabbergasted.

"No, but rules are made to be challenged, for the right reasons. And I firmly believe that this little bet will crumble before we head home tomorrow – with no clear winner and no clear loser," he repeated gruffly.

Obvious to this exchange, Tony handed the wine to Ziva, who smiled gently at him.

"Thank you." She replied, conveying more than a simple thanks for the wine in the two words. Tony inclined his head slightly, and grinned at her.

"Wow, Ziva, you look amazing. Doesn't she look amazing Tony? That dress, it is as if it was made for you, the colour and everything," Abby blurted out.

Looking coyly at Tony, Ziva asked: "Do you remember this dress, Tony?"

It was the one she had worn the day they had gone undercover as married assassins. He had remarked then how much the colour, and the dress had suited her.

His answer was interrupted by an arm snaking around Ziva's waist. The arm was followed by the rest of Sinclair who inclined his head and kissed Ziva lightly on the cheek.

"You know, I can't say that I do," Tony replied, missing the look of hurt that flashed across her features.

Any response was halted by the call for them to enter the ballroom.

"My lady, would you do me the honour of escorting me in?" Patrick asked Ziva, holding his arm out. She looked over to Tony, who all of a sudden had an interest in his shoes. After hesitating a moment, she softly nodded in reply and the two walked through the open doors.

"My dear," Ducky offered Abby his arm, which she took willingly as they marched jauntily behind the other two.

Lani and Gibbs had already gone. They were seated at the main table reserved for the higher ranking members of the agencies.

"Probie, don't walk so close to me, it looks like we are together," Tony elbowed Tim as they jostled their way into the ballroom.

* * *

It wouldn't be so bad, Tony decided. After all, his team would be seated together, and Sinclair should be seated far, far away.

It wasn't so. Again, in a bid to solidify interagency relations, the tables of ten were mixed.

Ducky, Jimmy, McGee, Abby and Ziva were all at his table, but so was Sinclair and three of his team mates.

Tony found himself wedged between Jimmy and a mousy-looking red-head with thick glasses and an unfortunate overbite.

Across from him were seated Ziva and Patrick. All through the dinner, he watched as Patrick fawned over his partner, his hands gently caressing her arm as he leant in and whispered into her ear. She would giggle. Yes, the ninja was giggling, a lilting girly sound instead of that throaty laugh he had come to love.

Tony was so busy seething; he didn't even hear when his name was called to accept the meritorious civilian service award.

It was only when Jimmy elbowed him in the ribs, did he register. It was the acknowledgement that he had waited all these years for, but hearing his name, and knowing what he did the previous year, the meaning was soured.

At what price, had his dream come true? His team, watching him proudly, expected him to take over the podium with an Oscar-like speech. After all, that is what he attempted to do, when he high-jacked Gibbs's award the previous year.

Instead, with heavy feet, he dragged himself over. Looking up with hooded eyes, as Vance handed him the award, gripped his hand and told him how proud they were of him and what he had accomplished.

He merely nodded and walked back to the table, smiling ever so slightly at the acknowledgement.

Tony sat, his fingers tracing his name, the feel of cool metal under his fingertips. He didn't deserve this – not after the year he had, the mistakes he made.

At what cost was this – Jenny's life, Jeanne's love? Was it really worth it? What had he achieved?

Looking up again, he could barely take the concern that flooded the chocolate brown eyes staring into his. He couldn't stand the fact that she knew him so well, that she was so much a part of him, and yet, they were so divided.

Movement caught his attention as Patrick and Jimmy announced a trip to the bar was in order.

Great, not only was the amazing Sinclair good looking, a master shooter and a fantastic orator who had his partner completely enthralled, but now even his friends had joined the dark side.

Tony tilted his whisky glass in front of him – "Make mine a double," he uttered.

"Anthony, is that wise?" asked Ducky concerned. He hadn't seen this angry, melancholy Tony before. Not even when the director had died.

"It's a celebration, right… and I want to celebrate. I have so much to celebrate, do I not?" he asked, sarcasm dripping on every word.

As Patrick and Jimmy walked away, Tony leaned forward towards Ziva, his chin resting in his hand.

"You know," he said loudly. "I do vaguely recall this dress," looking her up and down, with a leer on his face.

"I seem to remember the colour, but perhaps if it were pooled around your ankles again, my memory would be better served."

The table was shocked into silence, the only thing heard was Ziva's sharp intake of breath, and Abby's dismayed "Tony!"

"It is alright, Abby. Tony is just referring to our little undercover foil. It is the same dress I wore on that occasion, is it not, Tony?" she asked him, her voice so low that he hardly heard her.

Tony realised he had overstepped the mark. His slight barbed comments had been flowing all night. But this one, was a little too much, even for him.

He turned his head away, and looked over at floor that had been cleared, ready for the dancing. Seeing the whisky placed down in front of him, he gulped it down.

"I guess, I need another," he said, pushing his chair back forcibly. "I'm going to the bar."

He started to walk away, turned round, and made his way back to the table.

"Oh, and Ziva, you will let me know if I need to move over and make space in _our_ bed for an extra person. Don't worry Sinclair, I am sound sleeper. Just make sure you are gone by morning. " Tony said without expression, looking pointedly at Sinclair.

He picked up the small velvet box, containing his coveted award, and without looking back at the table, dropped it into a nearby trashcan before heading towards the bar.

The others sat slack-jawed, watching.

McGee started to stand up, but Ziva was there first, her hand gentle on his jacketed arm.

"I deal with this, Tim," she said quietly and firmly.

"They together, I didn't know. I never would have…" Sinclair said uncertainly, looking at the others in confusion.

But no-one answered him. They were watching what was unfolding in front of them.

Ziva fished the award out of the trash and marched over to where Tony sat, his head in his hands. Looking over at the barman she asked for a bottle of still water and an espresso before turning all her attention to Tony.

"What is your problem?" she ground out, slapping the velvet box down in front of him. Tony sat stoically, staring at the bar counter.

Ziva continued unabated: "Your friends are here to support you, and this is how you treat them, treat me? This award means everything to you…"

She stopped, and looked at him. "That is it, isn't it? It did mean everything to you, and now it does not. You feel that it is ill-earned, that it is covered with blood – do you not?"

Grabbing his shoulder she turned him towards her. "Tony, you should be proud of what you have accomplished. We are, of you."

"Proud," he uttered, in disbelief.

"What is there to be proud of? Should I be proud that I let an innocent woman who adored me, fall for me? Should I be proud that I took her love and trust and stomped all over it? Should I be proud that I disobeyed direct orders because I wanted to have some fun, direct orders that resulted in the death of someone? What exactly do I have to be proud of," he spat out, turning back towards the bar.

Ziva's eyes were fiery. "That's right – feel sorry for yourself. Have a pity party for one. Poor little Tony, you were the only one that lost something, someone. The rest of us, well, we weren't affected at all, by any of this," she spat out. "I for one am tired of this."

"I can see that," he answered sardonically. I don't need you Zee-vah, and I don't want you. Why don't you go back and continue fawning over Sinclair like a dog in heat."

He threw over his shoulder.

"You have made your feelings on the subject extremely clear Tony. So why do you care, whom I do or don't sleep with?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.

"Perhaps, I am trying to protect you. Sinclair is a player, he likes the challenge of the girl he cannot have, and once he has you he will spit you out like yesterday's gum. But if that is what you want, then go for it. Who am I to stand in the way of true love?" he stood, his arm open, his hands facing up in a defensive pose.

"You are truly unbelievable." She looked at him. "Who are you to be the great protector of my virtue – the same man who brought a woman into our room and slept with her in our bed? You are despicable."

She started to walk away across the dance floor, just as the band began playing an old Sinatra favourite, thinking the dancing was starting.

She stopped, startled, realising that she was in the middle of the dance floor and no where to hide.

Tony was just behind her. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in towards him. Wrapping her arms, much to her disgust, around his waist, he held her tightly.

To remove herself from this situation, would surely cause a scene as all eyes were on them.

Defeated, she stopped trying to fight and sunk into his shoulder.

"So that is why you have been so mad all day," he whispered into her ear.

"I didn't sleep with her Ziva, I could and would never do that to you, and I cannot believe you would think that I could be capable of that kind of behaviour."

He spun her out, twirled her round, before pulling her back into his arms again.

She sighed: "I want to believe you Tony, but I saw you in the bar, you were practically undressing her. And then the kiss outside, and you lying naked on the bed. It all fits Tony."

Shaking his head slightly, he repeated. "You saw me kiss her?"

"I felt the need to run, I came passed the bar and there you were, outside. That was more than a simple kiss goodnight, Tony." She answered sadly.

"Zi," he said gently, rocking her in his arms. "What a mess we have made."

Spinning her around again as the song ended, he dipped her to loud applause. They looked up surprised.

Not realising that they were still the only two dancing, they had offered a pretty amazing floorshow. Blushing, the two acknowledged the applause.

The band started a livelier number, which soon had a large percentage of the agents and their partners up and dancing, including Gibbs, and even Ducky surprisingly.

* * *

Taking the opportunity, Tony pulled Ziva into a darkened corner. "We need to talk," he said, resting his forehead on hers.

"Zi, I did kiss that woman, but not because I wanted to sleep with her." He chuckled slightly.

"Or maybe I thought I did. The point is, this last year, since Jeanne, I have been pretty messed up. Or maybe before that even, I don't know. Women stopped being so entertaining, so mythical. I thought it was because I was falling in love for the first time…"

He took a deep breath. "…with Jeanne. But that, that relationship was never completely real. Oh, I cannot deny that the feelings were, that perhaps I wanted more. But she didn't know me, and I couldn't completely let myself go. I know that I loved her in my own way, the best way I could. But it wasn't true, Zi."

He stopped to take another deep breath. This time lifting her head that had dipped. His green eyes stared into her chocolate brown ones. He was surprised at the depth of emotion there – anger, hurt and… desire?

"The strange thing is that when Jeanne made me choose, between my family and her, the choice actually wasn't that difficult. But so much had changed. I had, you had… it just wasn't the same was it? We weren't the same."

He stared into her eyes. "Zi, yesterday, in our room – it was just too much. And I thought, perhaps it was because I haven't been with anyone since Jeanne, that my body was just reacting to the closeness. That is why I kissed Kristen last night. I had to find out, I had to know, if what I feel around you is real or not."

It was Ziva's turn to draw in the breath.

"Zi you are my best friend, my confidant, my soul mate and I didn't want to ruin that. I had to be sure."

"And now?" she asked, leaning up on her tip-toes, nose to nose with Tony, her breath mingling with his, her lips so close he could feel her whisper.

"I am sure. But are you?" He answered her, closing in.

"Good," she uttered cheekily, tapping him on the chest. "I love this song. Come on Tony, let's dance." Pulling him out of the dark corner, she dragged him onto the dance floor where the others were waiting.


	6. Chapter 6 Hips don't lie

**Disclaimer: I don't own the NCIS crew, but I do lay claim to the characters that have been born from the figment of my imagination...**

A/N: hope you are all still enjoying this...

Recap:

"_Zi you are my best friend, my confidant, my soul mate and I didn't want to ruin that. I had to be sure."_

"_And now?" she asked, leaning up on her tip-toes, nose to nose with Tony, her breath mingling with his, her lips so close he could feel her whisper. _

"_I am sure. But are you?" He answered her, closing in._

"_Good," she uttered cheekily, tapping him on the chest. "I love this song. Come on Tony, let's dance." Pulling him out of the dark corner, she dragged him onto the dance floor where the others were waiting. _

* * *

**Chapter Six – Hips don't lie**

The song had just ended and Ziva went to the bar to get a fresh round of drinks. Recognising her, the barman silently picked up the small velvet box he had placed behind the bar for safe-keeping and positioned it in front of her. Smiling her thanks, she picked it up and looked over to where Tony was.

His head hung a little as he apologised to the people he was closest to – his makeshift family – for his earlier outrageous behaviour. Abby, immediately hugged him tight, while Tim had the good grace to shake his hand.

Ducky just inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the gesture. "Thank you Anthony, but it is not us to whom your words should be directed," he said, looking up towards Ziva as she trailed the waiter back to the table.

"I am well aware of that Ducky, and am working on it…" Tony admitted.

Unnoticed, Ziva slipped Tony's award into her clutch purse and placed it back on the table. "I did not know what you wanted to drink, so I got a selection of the favourites," she said to the group.

Looking at the table, Tony's hand hovered over the beer bottle and settled instead for the bottle of water. "…starting now," he added.

Ziva just smiled.

The DJ had taken over from the live band, and his first choice was a popular Shakira number. Ziva stood and crooked her finger at Tony. "Oh no…no.." Tony stuttered.

She beckoned to him again, before swaying her hips from side to side as she moved onto the dance floor. "This. Cannot. End. Well…" he said through gritted teeth, getting up to follow her.

"Maybe I should have backed the dark horse," Gibbs muttered, as he and Lani sat down in Ziva and Tony's recently vacated seats, watching the two on the dance floor.

Tony and Ziva seemed to be taking the lyrics "hips don't lie" to heart, their bodies moving in unison with each other, not yet touching, but the yearning was unmistakable.

Groaning slightly, Tony reached up and unclipped Ziva's hair, the brown curls cascading down her back.

Slipping her clip into his pocket, he caught her hand, spinning her out, then in again. She twisted in his arms, her back flush against his chest, her arms reaching up behind her, tussling his hair, before moving down to caress his face. His hands grazed her side, trailing down from her ribs before settling, his hands splayed out on her hips as she ground into him, hips swinging side-to-side in time with the music and lyrics.

It seemed almost voyeuristic watching them, a combination of sex appeal, raw desire and a hint of impudence, as they moved, completely oblivious to those around.

McGee hadn't realized he had been holding his breath, till Jimmy released his next to him.

On his other side, Abby leaned into her hand and sighed: "Wow. That is really something. I mean we always knew that there was this almost magnetic kind of pull. But, wow. I mean that is hot. And I don't mean hot in a freaky – I'm-attracted-to-Ziva-kind of way. Tony doesn't really stand a chance, does he?"

She finally took a breath and a sip of her beer, before continuing: "Although, he had better make his move tonight, because judging from the looks around here, if he doesn't, she will definitely have a long line of admirers waiting for her…" she mused.

Looking over to where McGee was staring, she gave him a Gibbs slap. "Timmy…" she said warningly.

"Huh, what, no… I wasn't watching. Well, I was. Hard not to. Was just wondering what Gibbs is thinking?"

Ziva had turned in Tony's arms and was now facing him, her arms encircling his neck. His left hand was wrapped around her, supporting the base of her back as he dipped her round. His right hand slid over her thigh, lifting her leg which she wrapped around his. Her dress, now bunched under his hand, exposed a band of black around her upper thigh.

"What is that, a garter?" asked Lani surprised, tilting her head to get a better angle.

"Nope," Gibbs smirked. "Rule 9."

"Rule 9?" she asked questioningly.

"Never go anywhere without a knife," McGee, Abby and Jimmy finished for him – the table erupting into laughter.

"I was wondering how she was going to do that – I mean Ziva is always armed…" Abby added as an afterthought: "Although I would think Tony would be a little more cautious."

They all laughed again.

The song ended, replaced with a slightly slower number. Tony and Ziva hadn't moved off the dance floor, this time just gently swaying to the music, wrapped in each others' arms.

"Care to dance," Gibbs held out his hand to Lani. "Although I cannot promise the same moves," he added, nodding to where his senior agent and liaison officer were.

"Oh, in that case, I'm not so sure," she laughed, her eyes twinkling.

"Come on woman," he growled gently, pulling her up towards him.

"Abs?" McGee asked.

"Well, it's not Brain Matter, but – danceable enough I suppose…" she muttered, already marching halfway across the dance floor, McGee dragging behind her.

Ducky and Jimmy sat back and watched, Ducky nursing his scotch. "This reminds me of when I was a young man and we…" Ducky started one of his stories, as Jimmy leaned back, crossed his arms and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Well, would you look at that?" Tony said quietly – looking over to where their boss was entwined with Lani.

Ziva opened her eyes. "He looks…. Happy?" she said.

"Haven't seen him with that look… in… forever," Tony added.

"He used to look at Jenny that way," Ziva replied with a tinge of sadness. "When he thought no-one was watching."

"What do you think went wrong there? I mean, their feelings were pretty obvious and we know there must have been something in the past?" Tony asked.

"I don't know, Tony. I know she loved him, although she would never come out and say it. I know they were partners in every sense of the word, but she only ever alluded to what really happened"

"Perhaps, there were just too many secrets." Tony gazed deep into her eyes.

"Perhaps. But, I suppose it is difficult, working with someone and loving them at the same time. This is the career, the life we have chosen, and you need to trust your partner will always be there, but you also have to be constantly aware and alert. You cannot let your guard down; to do that could mean death. It's all or nothing, but at the same time, it cannot be. Balance and professionalism is needed." She trailed off.

"Why do I get the feeling that we are no longer talking about Jenny and Gibbs," Tony looked at her.

Ziva stared up into his eyes. She could see the concern there, the unasked question that hung between them – "what now?"

"I honestly don't know," she answered before he even asked. "But, let's not think about that now. Can we not enjoy tonight for what it is and worry about everything else tomorrow?" She pleaded.

"For now, can there not just be this – us – here and now. Two people, clearly attracted to each other, enjoying each other? No strings, no complications, just tonight… and the inevitable." She whispered, reaching up and caressing his check lightly, before placing her head against his chest.

"But what if that is not enough, what if I want more," Tony thought to himself, as he dipped his head and kissed the top of hers, pulling her in even closer and closing his eyes.

A sharp smack to the back of his head brought him back, just as Ziva was getting the same treatment. "Hay, wha…"

Lani laughed as Gibbs wrapped his arm back around her.

"You know what…" he droned. "Just keep it out the office…" Gibbs added softly, smiling at them.


	7. Chapter 7 Spin me right round

**Disclaimer: Don't own the NCIS crew, but do my own characters.... **

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, story alerts etc... You guys rock! Please, I know reviews can be a pain (as is me keep asking for them!) but, keep leaving them as it makes me feel that my little story is being read and enjoyed. I had fun with this chapter, I hope you do too!

**Recap:** _"For now, can there not just be this – us – here and now. Two people, clearly attracted to each other, enjoying each other? No strings, no complications, just tonight… and the inevitable." She whispered, reaching up and caressing his check lightly, before placing her head against his chest. _

"_But what if that is not enough, what if I want more," Tony thought to himself, as he dipped his head and kissed the top of hers, pulling her in even closer and closing his eyes. _

_A sharp smack to the back of his head brought him back, just as Ziva was getting the same treatment. "Hay, wha…" _

_Lani laughed as Gibbs wrapped his arm back around her. _

"_You know what…" he droned. "Just keep it out the office…" Gibbs added softly, smiling at them. _

**Chapter seven: Spin me right round**

It was the early hours of the morning, by the time the stragglers called it quits. Ducky had taken himself off to bed a few hours before. He had been quite willing to wait the night out, but felt that perhaps, when the older agents and superiors bid their farewells, that he should too. After all, he was a true gentleman and didn't want to cramp the younger ones' style.

Last seen, Jimmy had been getting cozy in the corner with the mousy agent and her overbite. A few shooters in her and the change was quite remarkable. At one point, Jimmy had to pry her off the table, where she was belting out a striking rendition of "I am who I am", complete with dance moves. Jimmy didn't seem to mind, in fact, he appeared quite taken with this vixen in sheep's clothing.

Gibbs and Lani had quietly snuck out of the ballroom, when they thought no-one was paying attention. However, Gibbs had trained his eagle-eyed agents a little too well, and all eyes were focused on the couple as they slipped hand-in-hand out of the room. It was unknown whether they had gone for a quiet nightcap, or to one of the rooms.

There was much heated speculation, and the remaining team members had to forcibly hold Abby back from going to find out. She had ascertained that Gibbs was on the third floor, while Lani was on the second. Abby was dead keen to have a stakeout on each floor, and had even picked out the perfect pot plant for her and Ziva to hide behind on the second floor. She seemed to think that Lani's room was the better option, as commitment-phobic Gibbs would have a possible escape route, should he need it. Tony and McGee, she thought, could set themselves up next to the ice-machine on the third floor. Abby got as far as mapping out a plan, using her charcoal eyeliner and a scrunched up tissue she found in her handbag.

Luckily, Tony was able to distract her by waving another brightly colored drink in front of her, and after money quietly exchanged hands, the DJ was persuaded to play her favorite songs. Who knew that Abby's music tastes were so eclectic? The combination proved to be just the thing, and soon she had Ziva on the dance floor – in between visits to the bar. The two kicked off their heels and were holding hands, spinning and turning each other, while laughing madly. Tony and McGee just watched and smiled.

Ziva was dizzy and out of breath by the time the last song ended. "Whoops." she spun a little out of control as they tottered over to the boys. Tony quickly steadied her.

"Okay, say goodnight Gracie," he chirped, picking her up and swinging her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Good night, Gracie," she muttered.

"Who is this Gracie, I am saying goodnight too?" she asked Tony blearily, trying to lift her head and upper body to look around. Tony just patted her butt affectionately, and took her delicate heels that Tim was holding out. Ziva flopped back down.

"Will you be okay getting that one into bed?" Tony asked, tilting his head over to where Abby was still manically spinning in the centre of the empty dance floor.

"Oh, yes. Don't worry about me. This is not the first time I have had to deal with a tipsy Abby." McGee grinned in response.

"Although, I had better stock up on Caf-Pow. A hung-over Abby is not one you want to trifle with," he added worriedly. "I have done that once, and never, ever again." He shuddered at the memory.

Tony winked and walked out of the ballroom, Ziva still slung over his shoulder.

"I can walk, you know?" she muttered.

"I know, but this is so much more fun. And, did you really have to match Abby cocktail for cocktail, shooter for shooter?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," she mumbled. "Now, maybe not so much."

Tony managed to get into the lift and out at the right floor. This was proving more difficult that he originally thought, as Ziva was playing a beat on his butt-cheeks.

Fumbling, he tried to remove the access card from his pants pocket, but in the process, nearly dropped Ziva and the shoes he was still holding.

"Here, let me." Ziva reached her hand into his pocket, and Tony felt, took slightly longer than was necessary as she rummaged around before enclosing her hand around the card and pulling it out, while Tony shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Her giggles were muffled into his back, as he snatched the card from her hand and slid it into the door, desperate to get into the room.

Finally getting it open, he kicked it shut behind him and dropped her onto the bed before flopping down beside her.

Ziva yawned, stretched, and arching her back, untied the side knot that held her dress in place, stripping it off. Still smiling dreamily at Tony, she slid under the covers, wearing the tiniest pair of green silk panties he had ever seen. She was fast asleep before he had finished unbuttoning his shirt.

"Gibbs," he muttered, looking down on her sleeping form, the sheet slipping slightly as she turned over and mumbled in her sleep.

He sighed deeply. The talk would have to wait till the morning. But he reasoned - this was just the start for them - they had all the time in the world. Climbing into the bed, he pulled her towards him, and in her sleep, she snuggled closer, murmuring contentedly. Sighing again, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep.


	8. Chapter 8 Behind those eyes

**Disclaimer: The usual. I don't own any of the NCIS crew portrayed here. I do, still, take ownership of my own characters.**

A/N: Sorry that it has taken me a few days to load this chapter. You see, the characters of this story and I had a difference of creative opinion as to how this story should continue. We agree on the ending, but not entirely on how to get there. I had a firm idea in my head, and yet, the characters have decided that they want to go a slightly different route. So, after writing and rewriting this chapter, we have come to a compromise. We hope it works for you and that you enjoy it! Because ultimately, isn't that what this is all about? Our love of words and writing and the idea that others get to enjoy them too. So, I really hope you do..... And again. Thanks for all the reviews. And, if you have a spare moment and a few loose words lying around, feel free to leave them on the review page... xxx

**Recap:**_ Ziva yawned, stretched, and arching her back, untied the side knot that held her dress in place, stripping it off. Still smiling dreamily at Tony, she slid under the covers, wearing the tiniest pair of green silk panties he had ever seen. She was fast asleep before he had finished unbuttoning his shirt._

_"Gibbs," he muttered, looking down on her sleeping form, the sheet slipping slightly as she turned over and mumbled in her sleep._

_He sighed deeply. The talk would have to wait till the morning. But he reasoned - this was just the start for them - they had all the time in the world. Climbing into the bed, he pulled her towards him, and in her sleep, she snuggled closer, murmuring contentedly. Sighing again, he closed his eyes and was soon asleep._

_

* * *

_**Chapter eight: Behind those eyes**

A few hours later, the sun barely up, Tony stirred. Groggily, he opened his eyes and stared straight into the chocolate brown ones he had come to know so well. She had the most expressive eyes, he realised. So often, she wouldn't say a word. All she needed to do was look at him. He knew exactly what she was trying to say. And she didn't even know it. He had seen a great deal in her eyes, these last four years. Humour, amusement, pride, anger, disappointment, sadness, and yes, on occasions, even desire. The Mossad agent may have knowledge on how to keep secrets, but her eyes – they always told the truth.

Ziva was lying on her side, her head resting on her elbow. When she saw him looking at her, she smiled tenderly, reached over and brushed the hair off his forehead, tracing down over the still slightly swollen bridge of his nose, and his darkening eye. He smiled back, the pad of her thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. Not wanting to break the spell, and lose this affectionate version of Ziva, he knew he had to choose his next words carefully.

"How's your head?" he asked her, his hand running up her bare arm. Okay, so not the best choice of opening lines. But he now he had to run with it…

"Fine, surprisingly. Nothing a little exercise couldn't cure," she added, still staring at him.

Again, with the running metaphor. He was definitely not going to win any Pulitzer prizes for his subsequent statement. That he knew, but, he just couldn't help the words that came out of his mouth next. After all, he was Anthony D DiNozzo:

"I think I could help with that," he shared, smiling wolfishly, as he reached both hands up, locked them in her hair and pulled her forward towards him.

Well, he thought, this could potentially go one of two ways. And he just hoped that the way she chose wouldn't involve him rolling in pain as he tried to protect his nether regions. He was surprised when she didn't smack him, even more surprised when she didn't pull away. So surprised, in fact that it took him a few seconds to react.

Again, he stared into her deep brown eyes, at the question that lay just beneath the surface: what now? He looked at her again, his hands still entwined in her hair, the curls spilling over his fingers, her mouth just inches away from his. Silent. Without words. Body language. Their best form of communication. She granted the permission he was so desperately seeking, leaning in towards him.

Lips meeting lips, opening and allowing the dance to start. Tony pulled her in closer, sliding his hand down her bare back as she groaned, pressing into him. The kiss deepened, rolling over him, her hands now clasped in his hair. It had moved from tender to breath-taking. Tony could feel his toes tingle. His toes? Does that really happen? It was hard to tell where he ended and she begun. And then - nothing. No butterfly kisses over his face and chest. No dancing tongue. No tingles. Just. Nothing. Except the frigid early morning air as she scooped up the sheet and rolled straight out of bed, taking it with her.

"Hang a sec," he exclaimed opening his eyes in confusion, catching the sheet as she twisted it around her. "Where exactly do you think you are going?" Again, not a prizewinning, melt-your-heart comment, DiNozzo, he thought.

"For my run. I told you, I needed exercise. Care to join me?" She asked huskily, showing a little skin as she started to move away. It was all the encouragement he needed.

"Oh no. No, you don't. I have another form of cardio planned for you, and it has nothing to do with your running shoes," he added, yanking hard at the sheet corner he still had. Pulling her back onto the bed, he straddled her and started to tickle her mercilessly. Laughter filled the room, her arguments to the contrary and his growled responses. More tickling, more laughter, the sheet unraveled, skin on skin and then the laughter ceased, replaced by the soft moaning of ecstasy.

They had waited so long for this and it was everything that both expected it would be – electrifying, satisfying and well, in a word: mind-blowing – and just in case it was a fluke - they tested the theory a further two times, before falling asleep, still wrapped in each other.

* * *

It was the click of the hotel room door that woke her, although it took her a few seconds to realise that was the sound she heard. That, and the fact that a) the sun was now streaming into the room, and b) Tony was no longer lying beside her. She sat up, pulling the rumpled sheet up under her arms and shifted her knees up, allowing her head to fall into her arms.

"Fantastic." she muttered to herself. "At least there will be no embarrassing morning-after scenarios," she thought bitterly, having realised that Tony's leaving the room is what caused her to wake. She didn't regret what had happened, how could she? It really was inevitable. And, perhaps, even necessary. Now that it was out of their system, they could concentrate on what was really important: NCIS, their team, their partnership, their friendship...

Then the smell hit her. Coffee, beside the bed, along with a note propped up on the saucer.

Opening it, she smiled widely. "Z- You've got five minutes to get your arse into your running gear and downstairs. Else I am telling everyone that I won the bet – T"

Laughing, she gulped at her coffee and jumped out of bed. Quickly changing into her kit, she shoved her cap on her head and made her way to where Tony was waiting. But first she stopped long enough to rap her knuckles loudly on Abby and McGee's door, beating out a loud pattern. She ran down the empty passageway, her laughter bouncing off the walls.

* * *

McGee had not had a good morning so far. The display that the two in the room opposite gave the night before in the ballroom, might have been worthy of an Oscar and had cheered up Abby no end, but had given him a complete headache. The ricocheting nature of the two agents had the bets coming in thick and fast, with envelopes of money firstly being pressed into his hand, and then later even still, being shoved under the door of his room, with loud stage whispers of who the favourite of the hour was.

Apparently, those who had left the ballroom had ventured to the bar, which seemed to have been kept open all night – thanks to the governmental expense account. With a free day ahead of them, agents had let their hair down and Tony's manhandling of Ziva into the lift, along with him dangling her shoes, and her showing a distinct interest in his butt had upped the odds somewhat.

By 4am, McGee had had enough. When he did finally manage to get Abby into bed, she was fraught with the most vivid dreams that had her yelling out loud, and at one point, singing. Which, in itself wouldn't have been so bad, if not for the fact that she kept flinging her arms and legs out catching him in the most inopportune places.

He was just recovering from the most recent blow to the ribs, when the rapping on the door had her leaping up onto the bed, and taking a defensive pose, her hair stuck up all over the place.

"Timmy, what are you doing on the floor?" she flopped onto her stomach, peering over the side of the bed while McGee writhed in pain. "Just trying to get comfortable," he said through gritted teeth, drawing in deep breaths at the same time.

"Well, that can't be helping. Come on, climb up here onto the bed. I don't bite you know…. Not unless you really want me too." She added, patting the space beside her.

"Ooohhhowwww, my head hurts. And where's my caf-pow?" she added as an afterthought, before passing out dead asleep again, having rolled herself up in the blanket like a mummy.

McGee managed to pull himself onto the bed and rolled into a fetal position, pulling a corner of the blanket over his waist. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes. This plan of Abby's had better be working, because he really couldn't go through with this all again. He didn't think he had the pain threshold for it.

* * *

Ziva headed down the stairs, getting slower and slower as she came closer to the front door. She hesitated slightly, seeing Tony waiting outside. He was sitting on the stairs, looking at his watch, before running his hands through his hair, leaving tufts of it sticking up all over.

How would he react? She hoped that what had transpired wouldn't change them, who they were, the close friendship they had. She couldn't lose that. Not now. He had made some pretty serious statements the night before, as they stood in that darkened corner. But she knew him, better than he knew himself. And she knew it was just the alcohol talking. Now in the light of the day, things would be different. Of course, he was her soul mate, and her partner. And it was for those very reasons that this morning had happened, and the very reason why it wouldn't happen again. She just hoped that it wouldn't be weird, or uncomfortable. She was just about to step out, when Tony stood, turned and grinned.

"Glad you could make it Dah-ved," he drawled dragging her name out. "30 more seconds and I would have been shouting out that, I, Tony DiNozzo, did in fact win the aforementioned bet…"

"Oh no, no you didn't," she said amused. "And anyway, who you exactly do you plan on sharing this revelation with? Our counterparts all seem otherwise tied up." She added in a stage whisper, looking around.

"I think you mean occupied, however with this bunch, perhaps you are correct on this occasion," Tony corrected, looking around at the passed out and semi-comatose bodies scattered throughout the atrium.

"I somehow don't think our superiors are going to be too impressed with this lot, or, for that matter, plan on doing this kind of event again. Ohhh, lookihere… Doesn't that person in particular look familiar?"

Both sniggered, when they saw their own nemesis, Agent Sacks, half-lying on one of the leather chairs at the entrance. One shoe was off, his shirt unbuttoned, and his tie had been wound around his head, rather than neatly and securely at his neck.

Muffling their laughter they staggered outside. "Zi-vah, I'll race you." Tony sprinted across the grass, barely looking back to see if she was following him, knowing instinctively she would.

Ziva breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had changed. It was as if the night before had all been a dream, a figment of her imagination.

Except - she could still feel his hot breath on her skin, the taste of him, how he felt when…. Aaaagghhhhh. She shook her head and took off after Tony, following the hysterical laughter she could still hear, even though he had disappeared into the trees.

* * *

It was a good hour later, when they made their way back to the hotel reception. Ziva had caught up, and at one stage had even overtaken Tony. But this didn't last and as they cleared the trees, Tony whipped Ziva's cap off her head and took off across the grass again. He was lounging on the stairs, by the time Ziva panted up to him. She bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

"How did you do that? I am finished." She managed to get out between breaths. Her first inadvertent reference to their early morning activities.

He smirked: "Well, for one, I feel quite energized this morning and b) I wasn't the one who attempted to drink my own body weight in alcohol last night…."

Luckily, Ziva was saved from having to reply as Jimmy staggered past them, a silly grin on his face, still in his clothes from the night before, his shirt hanging loose and a string of pink lip-gloss kisses visibly evident across his face and neck.

"Hay Autopsy Gremlin, good night?" Tony spluttered as Ziva giggled.

"Huh?" was the dazed response as Ziva and Tony clutched each other, laughing even harder, their earlier tension diffused.

"What say we go wake up McGoo and the Bar Queen. I think it's high time for breakfast, and perhaps a little revenge," Tony raised an eyebrow at Ziva who elbowed him out of the way and was already heading up the stairs.


	9. Chapter 9 All bets are off

**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS characters, blah, blah…**

A/N: Again, thanks to all those who have left a review. They are truly appreciated. Not to sure about this chapter. Hope it works for you...

Recap: _"What say we go wake up McGoo and the Bar Queen. I think it's high time for breakfast, and perhaps a little revenge," Tony raised an eyebrow at Ziva who elbowed him out of the way and was already heading up the stairs. _

**Chapter nine: All bets are off**

McGee lifted his head, glowering with his one good eye, the other a deep purple colour. "I did not expect you there," Ziva responded again, shrugging her shoulders.

"Although Probie, you did kind of asked for it. What were you doing bending down behind the door anyway?" Tony questioned as McGee tried to stutter out an answer, nudging Abby under the table in a bid to get her to help him.

"Not now Timmy. Just five minutes then I'm all yours," she murmured, her voice muffled as she rested her head in her arms, her eyes tightly shut."And what kind of an establishment doesn't serve Caf-pow? I need caffeine and I need it now," she added, bolting up into a sitting position when she realised where she was. "Sorry, must have nodded off for a second there…"

The four were a sorry sight at the breakfast buffet, more aptly brunch sliding into lunch. Ziva's stitches were starting to itch, and she had decided to let them air, rather than cover them up. Although Ducky did a pretty decent job, the small cut nevertheless looked nasty. Tony's nose was still swollen and the full bruising had come out, making it appear like he was wearing eye shadow, while McGee's mottled black and purple contrasted nicely with the vicious bloodshot eye. Even Abby was unusually disgruntled, nursing a hangover.

Ziva had managed to get to Abby and McGee's room before Tony, and as the door was slightly ajar, she pushed against it. The bet envelopes, which had mysteriously piled up in the last few hours, were wedged under the door, and not knowing, Ziva threw her full force, just as McGee pulled the offending objects free. The result was a door knob to the eye, and McGee once again assuming a position on the floor writhing in pain.

It was Tony who suggested that some food was in order and so here they were, sitting in the dinning hall.

The waiter arrived just in time to save both Abby and McGee from explaining themselves, removing coffee, jasmine tea with lime and a Bloody Mary from the tray. "Hair of the dog," exclaimed Abby tossing the red drink back in a few gulps. "A well trusted remedy for what ails you my dear," Ducky responded, joining the team. "Oh dear, Timothy, whatever did you do?" He asked as he sat down.

McGee muttered something about wanting to claim occupational danger pay under his breath as he viciously stirred sugar into his coffee. Tony and Ziva sniggered.

Onto her second cup of coffee, Abby was almost back to her usual self. "Oh wow… I must have had more to drink than I thought. I totally didn't pick up the vibe until now. And now I have, it's completely obvious. How I could I have missed it," Abby babbled, looking over at Tony and Ziva.

"Wha…what?" Tony responded as Ziva pretended to be engrossed in the lime on her saucer.

"I mean, you can see it, you just have to look at them. It's written on their faces, it's in their body language. I can tell these things immediately usually. But the alcohol must have messed with my spidey senses. Can't you see it Timmy?" she continued, still staring at Ziva and Tony. "Gibbs and Lani" she added breathlessly, pointing to where the two sat, their knees just touching under the table.

"Boss Man scored? I mean, you are talking about Gibbs, aren't you" asked Tony craning his neck around to see the couple sitting discretely in the corner.

"Of course, I am talking about Gibbs, who else would I be?" Abby answered crossly.

"Oh, erm, no-one. So Probie, explain to me again why you were crouched down behind a closed door?" Tony deflected the conversation.

"I told you Tony, I was picking up the Do Not Disturb sign off the floor. I thought it best that housekeeping not wake Abby," he replied tiredly.

"Ahha," said Tony slowly, processing the information. "That looked a little more than a sign Probilicious. It looked like a whole lot of something."

Agent Taylor sauntered up to the table. A co-worker at NCIS, he took smarmy to a new level. "Hello Team Gibbs. All looking so cozy here this morning. So, McGee, we were wondering when the outcome of the bet would be announced. I mean, it's Sunday, we leave soon. When will we find out who won?" He asked looking at McGee who shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Ziva and Tony looked at him astounded. "My money is still on Officer David here," Taylor continued, leaning on his elbows while simultaneously trying to peer down her shirt. "I sure know that I would be her willing slave for a week, especially if she dances like that for me. That is, if you need a stand-in DiNozzo. I mean I could show you…." He never completed his sentence and instead was gulping in pain. Ziva on her feet, was ferociously twisting his arm up behind his back. "Think. About. Your. Next. Words. Carefully," she ground out.

"Ziver, what did I tell you about touching the other agents?" Gibbs, seeing the commotion had swiftly moved to his team's table, Lani close behind him.

"If I'm going to give into my impulses, make sure there are no witnesses?" Ziva shot back deadpan, twisting Taylor's arm tighter.

"Hay man, chill. I just wanted to know where we stood on the bet. The stakes must be through the roof by now. Although, if DiNozzo here won, I think he is stronger man than all of us…" Taylor added, rubbing his wrist as Ziva released him, her attention now fully on McGee.

"You took our dare and turned it into a wager McVegas?" Tony asked. "Nice. Something I would do," he nodded appreciatively as Ziva seethed and smoldered next to him.

"You knew about this?" she asked him incredulously. "Is this what this whole weekend has been about?" she added, her tone low and quiet.

"Um, actually, Ziva. It was my idea." Abby mumbled looking at her friend. "But, you should see how many people got involved, even Gibbs" she added before realising that perhaps this wasn't exactly what Ziva wanted to hear.

"Fantastic. I have become some sort of entertainment value. Some kind of circus act – yes?" she looked over at her team mates. "Let's see how long it takes for the frigid Mossad agent to succumb to the charms of the office lothario."

Her eyes darkened. "I expected better of you, Tony." she spat out, turning on her heel and storming out of the room.

"So, does that mean that DiNozzo is the winner?" Taylor asked, as six sets of eyes swiveled to his direction. "Just asking," he grunted.


	10. Chapter 10 Bravely stupidstupidly brave

Disclaimer: oh you so know this – don't own NCIS or their characters, or their story lines, but like to think I own my own….

Recap: _You took our dare and turned it into a wager McVegas?" Tony asked. "Nice. Something I would do," he nodded appreciatively as Ziva seethed and smoldered next to him. _

_  
"You knew about this?" she asked him incredulously. "Is this what this whole weekend has been about?" she added, her tone low and quiet. _

**Chapter ten – bravely stupid, or stupidly brave**

Tony was pacing back and forward past the hotel room he was sharing with Ziva. Stopping, he reached his hand out to the door handle, changed his mind and ran his fingers through his hair instead. He resumed his pacing.

"You are hovering, Tony," Abby stated, sneaking up behind him. "You are scared of Ziva."

"I am not scared of Ziva," Tony scoffed. "And I am not hovering. I am merely considering if I really want to go into the room or not."

"She's not happy," Abby said sadly.

"No, Ziva is not happy," added Tony, smiling slightly at Abby's absurd understatement.

"But Tony, surely if you tell her that you weren't involved, that you didn't know, she wouldn't be cross with you?" Abby was trying to understand why this seemed to be such a complex situation.

Tony just shook his head and continued pacing.

It had been about 20 minutes since Ziva had walked out, leaving the others looking at the floor, walls, table - anywhere really – to avoid looking at her retreating back or Tony's clenched stance.

And Tony, knowing her so well, felt it best to let her calm down a bit. He had seen it in her eyes, the hurt, the anger and the disappointment – again. She had looked at him that way before, and it wasn't a place he readily wanted to revisit. But, here he was – again.

He sat in the dinning hall, trying to look at nonchalant as possible, while the others argued around him.

Taylor, realising an answer to his question wasn't going to be forthcoming, quietly retreated before the agents could turn and blame this whole fiasco on him.

"Right, so, I will be, just over there…" he trailed off, taking a step back with every word, before whirling round and scurrying away.

Tony realised that this was getting them no where, decided he had to take the bull by the horns. Standing up, he straightened his shoulders, licked his lips, made sure his hair was in place and strode confidently to the lift.

And this is how he found himself in the passageway outside their room, having plucked up the courage to face her.

Yes, he thought to himself. He would march right in and ask, no _demand_ that she listens to him. He would tell her that she was being childish and foolish and really, it was all a bit of fun and games and no big deal. Well, no big deal until she caused the scene she did… Before, no-one was any the wiser, but her reaction, oh, her reaction would get them all talking. So, if there was anyone to blame – it was her. If she thought about it rationally.

His hand again reached out for the door knob, before he pulled it back and resumed his pacing. The only thing was, Ziva wasn't always rational.

Just a few more minutes, he thought, and then he would certainly go in and confront her. Giving her some more time to come to her senses was probably wise.

Abby, realizing that Tony wasn't going to go through the door, decide to pre-empt the situation and force his hand, really.

She had been standing against the wall for a good 10 minutes now, watching as he stalked back and forwards, stopped, mumbled something, scratched his face, or fluffed his hair, and then continued.

It would have been quite comical, had she not been so sad. She really thought this plan would work, but it had completely backfired. And now her friends were hurting and, she, she was sad. There had to be a way to make this better. There just had too. But without her usual caffeine power-juice – her brain was hurting from thinking so much, or maybe it was the alcohol? Either way, she thought, she could fix this… Just how?

As Tony turned to make another lap, she pushed on the door, having noticed that it wasn't completely closed. Tony glared at her, before cautiously stepping into the room, with Abby following close behind. He stopped suddenly, and spun round smacking bodily into Abby.

"Ummpf, Tony, what are you doing?" she took a step backwards and rubbed her head.

"She's gone."

"You mean, she's not here, in the room?" Abby glanced around.

But Tony was already striding down the passageway. "She's gone." He reiterated as Abby tottered to catch up with him, no easy feat considering the knee high platform boots she wearing.

"Are you sure? I mean, you didn't even look properly. How do you know she is gone? Perhaps she is another room, or even back downstairs with the others?"

Tony was jabbing the down button repeatedly, not looking at Abby. How could he tell her that he just knew. That Ziva's green dress, which had been carelessly tossed onto the floor beside the bed a few hours previously, was missing. That despite her not being in the room, the lingering scent of her in the air, and the rumpled sheets mocked him.

Abby tugged at Tony's sleeve and he realized that the stabling motion had given way to something else, his clenched fist hitting the lift panel impatiently.

"Maybe we should take the stairs?" she suggested quietly.

"Sorry Abs. Good idea." He said following her meekly down the stairs. He reached the ground floor and started to move past her through the atrium, when he skidded to a stop.

Sinclair was walking out of the dinning room, his arm casually hanging around Kristen's shoulders.

"Like, I didn't see that coming," Tony muttered. He sucked himself up to his full height. "Sinclair – seen Ziva by any chance?" he tried to ask with as little emotion as possible.

Sinclair looked at him quizzically: "She left about 20 minutes ago. Had her bags and was definitely walking with purpose."

He disentangled himself from Kirsten who was clinging to him like a limpet and after whispering something in her ear, stepped closer to Tony. Kirsten just gave Tony a look of distain, and flicked her long hair over her shoulder, harrumphing loudly.

"Uh Tony. I didn't have an opportunity to speak to you last night…what with everything. I mean, I didn't realize that there was something… that you and Ziva… What I am trying to say is, I didn't mean to come in-between. Had I known, I…"

Tony cut him off: "probably would have done the same thing anyway. Forget it. You didn't come between anything."

"Could have fooled me," Sinclair raised his eyebrows, but he was talking to Tony's retreating back.

Tony was putting the pieces of the puzzle together and he didn't like the picture that was forming.

"Oh no. No she didn't. She wouldn't. Not that. Anything but that. She wouldn't go there."

He rushed out the front door, heading towards the parking lot. His eyes scanning, looking for a familiar sight. But, where his prized car was once parked, was now an open space.

"Oh, she went there." He added, shaking his head and stomping his food in frustration.

As he stood in the empty parking space, his hands up behind his head, McGee jogged up, completely out of breath.

"Tony…Tony…" he puffed. " Ziva. Took. Your. Car. Tried. To. Stop. Her. Too. Late."

"Ya think, Probie?" Tony responded sarcastically.


	11. Chapter 11 Bending the rules

**Disclaimer: Don't own the NCIS crew – or their story lines – or their props – I've just borrowed them… **

A/N:Hope you like....

Recap: _As he stood in the empty parking space, his hands up behind his head, McGee jogged up, completely out of breath. __  
_

_"Tony…Tony…" he puffed. " Ziva. Took. Your. Car. Tried. To. Stop. Her. Too. Late." _

"_Ya think, Probie?" Tony responded sarcastically. _

**Chapter eleven: Bending the rules**

She was beginning to understand Tony's infatuation with his Mustang. Within twenty minutes behind the wheel, Ziva had gone from absolutely fuming to mildly simmering.

The Mustang purred under her hands and she could feel the power. It had taken a few irate horns and rude gestures for her to remember that Tony's car was a bit bigger than her mini and she couldn't zip in and out of the lanes like she normally did.

But now, she relished the freedom the car gave her, the wind blowing in her hair through the open window. She wasn't thinking when she stormed out of the dinning hall, she wasn't thinking when she stuffed her discarded clothes into her bag, snatched up Tony's keys and marched out of the room. And she definitely wasn't thinking when she burnt rubber, tires squealing as she peeled out of the parking lot.

And that was the whole problem. She had allowed her emotions to get the better of her. And she was not an emotional woman. She had relied all her life on being rational, on being in control – at least that is what she told herself. She did not fear anything or anyone – at least that is what she told herself.

Now that her anger dissipated, a warm flush spread to her cheeks. She had over-reacted in the dinning hall. She knew that. After all, she had been the one to agree to the bet in the first place. And so what if it had turned into a free-for-all.

She should have just laughed it off. She should have simply smiled and told them all that Tony DiNozzo succumbed to her charms, and admitted that she was the winner. She should have…

There was a lot she should have done, could have done. But she didn't. And why not? Because she allowed her emotions to take over. Just like she had done from the moment they had walked into that stupid hotel.

Emotions were for fools, and she had no time for fools. Being foolish just made you stupid and being stupid got you killed.

Sighing deeply, she pulled into her parking bay (her car was safely parked at NCIS headquarters) and closely the door, she walked up the stairs to her apartment.

She dropped her bags into her kitchen, and walked straight into her bathroom, wanting nothing more than to wash away the humiliation of the last 48 hours.

* * *

Tony was not happy. He was squashed in the back of McGee's car, on the tiny non-existent back seat, while Abby's music – if you could call it that – blasted in his ears.

"Can you turn this down, I can't hear myself think?" Tony yelled.

"What Tony, did you say something? I can't hear you the music's quite loud you know," Abby smiled back at him.

"Don't worry about it," he muttered, trying to shift and allow blood flow to his lower extremities that were currently jammed behind the bucket seats.

Digging in his jacket pocket, he pulled out a pair of ear plugs he had packed just in case. Well, actually, he deliberated, as he jammed them into his ears, shutting off the noise in the car, he had them in the hope that Ziva would end up in his room. And, having experienced her snoring before, well, he thought he had better be prepared.

That was before they were put in the same room, before the shower, before Kirsten, before the dance, and the morning after… The morning after, hard to believe that was just this morning.

But as much as he wanted to allow his mind to wander back there, he couldn't. All he could see was that look on her face when she stood glaring him down in the dinning hall.

But that didn't justify the fact that she took his car. His car. His prized possession. Well, aside from his complete collection of Magnum PI box sets, of course. Oh, and the Bond movies. And his Sinatra. But still. His car.

He could picture it, her hair down, blowing in the wind, casually holding the steering wheel as she spun in and out of traffic.

The look on her face, as she scrunched her eyes against the sun. Her lips pursed. Those extremely kissable lips. Oh yes, his mind was going there.

His mind constantly seemed to go there recently. And he just knew it would be going there a lot more, especially after this morning… But, it was more than that. She was more than a fantastic lay. She was… Ziva. And he wanted to do things right.

Well, start doing things right. Because, if he were honest, he hadn't done anything right up to now.

But, this would be different. He would get Abby and Probie to drop him off at Ziva's, He would march right up to her door, and explain exactly how things were going to work from here on out.

Ziva was scared. He got that. After the life she had lived, no wonder she was emotionally stunted. After all, what is her frame of reference for a normal relationship?

Her father sure doesn't sound like the type who showered her mother with romance. You are talking about a man who for fun, dropped his kids blind-folded in the middle of a forest and made them find their own way out….

* * *

The water sluiced over Ziva's body. Tony was immature. She got that. After the life he had lived, no wonder he was constantly looking for emotional reassurance.

After all, what is his frame of reference for a normal relationship? An emotionally stunted, alcoholic father who disowned him without look back? No wonder he constantly seeks reassurance….

* * *

Tony cast his mind back to the conversation he and Ziva had the night before, her insinuation about Gibbs and Jenny. Aware and alert, she said. Balance and professionalism.

And perhaps that was the whole problem. They didn't allow their true feelings to be known, and ended up resenting each other. Too many secrets.

They loved each other. A blind man could see that. But they didn't let the other know. The innuendos, the nuances, the sidelong glances.

They had slept together in the past, that much Tony knew. But, they refused to admit to their true feelings, and it ended up ruining them.

Jenny died, all alone, never knowing how much Gibbs loved her. Had they listened to their emotions instead, things would be completely different. And maybe, just maybe Jenny would still be here.

* * *

Stepping out of the shower, Ziva thought back to their conversation the night before – Gibbs and Jenny. They definitely were in love. But where did that get them? A lifetime of pain, secrets and resentment.

Their biggest problem was that they allowed their emotions to get the better of them And when it didn't work out, when it failed as it was doomed to do – they just couldn't get passed it, could they? Instead, it remained just under the surface, festering away.

And Jenny died, alone. Perhaps, if they had managed to keep their emotions out of it, Gibbs would have better seen the suicidal mission the director was embarking on.

Had emotions been kept out of it, perhaps things would be completely different. And maybe, just maybe Jenny would still be alive.

* * *

Tony shifted in the seat again, trying to get comfortable. His mind drifted back to Ziva again. The sex, well, it had been incredible, mind-blowingly so. There had been this attraction, this draw between them from almost the first time they had met.

But, she was an attractive woman, and completely out of bounds. And perhaps that was part of the excitement, the enchantment.

Here was a woman whom he couldn't have, so he wanted her. But that changed, somewhere along the line, subtly without him even realising it at first.

He had worried about them talking that final leap. That his fantasy wouldn't match reality. But, he needn't have. It surpassed his fantasies. And he had a reference library of experience to compare it to.

It was more than just the sex. It was the whole package, intimacy, tenderness. In fact it was just her. All of her. Made him realise what he had been missing all these years.

Theirs was a difficult job, long hours, dangerous. Makes it difficult to find someone who understands.

And, it's good to have someone you can vent to, who completely understands if you need to be quiet after a hard case, or release some pent up energy.

* * *

Ziva sat on her bed, towel-drying her hair. As she flicked it over her shoulder, she had a fleeting memory of Tony doing the same thing, shortly before kissing her shoulder.

The sex, well, it had been amazing, mind-blowingly so. And to be honest, she did kind of expect that it would be.

There had always been this attraction between them. And a smouldering fire always burns, fierce and hot. In a way, she wished she had given in sooner. The wasted time spent with other men, when what she was craving was sitting literally a desk away from her.

They were in a highly stressful environment and what you need is way to release all that frustration and pent up energy.

Oh, she could run, and she did. But that didn't fulfill the same need, the same void. And, it's good to have someone there who is going through the same thing, who completely understands.

* * *

It came down to semantics really. Tony thought, climbing out of McGee's car and stretching his legs as he waved at Abby's smiling face and thumbs up sign.

Gibbs' rule said no dating, it didn't say anything about falling in love.

* * *

It came down to semantics really, Ziva thought, slipping her gown on. Gibbs' rule said no dating, it didn't say anything about a purely sexual relationship.

What do they call it? Friends with reward, no that wasn't it. Friends with profit. No that didn't fit either. Friends with benefits, that was it.

Ziva's musings were interrupted by the bell. She knew before she even opened the door that he would be standing there. Waiting. Of course he would. She had his prized car.

She opened the door, he looked tired, disheveled. He took in her black silk gown, her bare feet and still damp saying a word, he leaned down and kissed her. She responded, leaning into the kiss and stepping back as he moved forward.

Pulling apart and breathing heavily, they stared at each other. Chocolate brown meeting green.

Dropping his bags, he closed the door with one hand and reached out for the tie of her gown with the other.


	12. Chapter 12 Normal is as normal does

Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS characters, props or plot lines. However, I do own my own words and imagination – for what that's worth…

Recap: _Without saying a word, he leaned down and kissed her. She responded, leaning into the kiss and stepping back as he moved forward. _

_Pulling apart and breathing heavily, they stared at each other. Chocolate brown meeting green. _

_Dropping his bags, he closed the door with one hand and reached out for the tie of her gown with the other. _

Chapter 12: Normal as normal does

Ziva woke first. Not surprising. She didn't need much sleep, generally. But this morning there was another, big and slightly hairy reason she was awake. She wouldn't admit it, not even to herself, but she almost liked the feeling of Tony's arm, heavy around her waist. It didn't feel as strange as she thought it would, sharing a bed with her partner – naked. In fact, it she felt almost… what was that feeling? It wasn't one she that she particularly knew, or had much experience with… she felt almost… comfortable.

She looked toward her bedroom window, it was still dark out. It was early, very early. Her alarm hadn't even gone off. Slipping out from under his arm, she gathered up her running gear. Pausing for a brief moment at the doorway, she looked back at where Tony lay, he had rolled onto his back, his mouth slightly open and he was lightly snoring.

She smiled, gently closing the door behind her.

This closeness, this intimacy. Perhaps this, whatever this was, could work?  
As long as they kept their emotions out of it, because those just complicate things.

* * *

Returning from her run half an hour later, she could smell an appetizing aroma wafting out of her kitchen, and could hear Tony singing to himself, slightly off-key, banging and clattering as he pottered around. Leaning against the doorframe, she couldn't help but snigger, as her eyes took in bare, hairy legs sticking out from underneath her black silk gown.

"You know, it takes a man…tight in his manhood to pull off a look like that," she snorted.

"It's secure, Zi. And yes, yes I am," he responded, swirling the end of the tie in one hand and holding the spatula in the other.

"So Miss Da-vid, can I interest you in some breakfast."

"Yes, thank you." She added: "However, I must admit, I am surprised to see that you are awake."

"Somebody forgot to switch off the alarm when they left for their run this morning," he replied, only half in jest.

"So, I figured that seeing I was awake, might as well make myself useful," he said, placing a glass of orange juice, a cup of freshly brewed coffee and French toast in front of her.

It seemed so normal, them sitting at the table, sharing breakfast while they read the morning newspaper. Without saying a word, she handed him the sports, while she read the news section. Exchanging politics and entertainment sections, while he leaned over and refilled her coffee cup. They were silent, but there didn't seem a need for random words to fill empty space. There was that feeling again, that word… comfortable, content.

Both avoided the conversation they knew they would eventually have to have, Tony, not wanting to break the fragile truce, and Ziva, well, Ziva wanted to enjoy pretending that this was normal, her life was normal, she was… normal.

"That was… nice Tony. Thank you for breakfast. But now, I think we had better get ready for work," she suggested, pushing her chair back. "I'm going to take a shower."

Tony waggled his eyebrows suggestively, as she walked off.

"Coming, Tony?" she asked as her hoodie hit the floor.

"Hell, yeah," he crowed, slamming his hands on table, and jumping up.

* * *

"I think I may have over-reacted," Ziva said, uncharacteristically meekly. Tony gave her a slight side-wards glance, taking his eyes off the road briefly, before responding. "Well, maybe. I mean, it's my car, my baby and I am a little overprotective, I admit, but you did …"

Sucking in his breath, he realised his mistake. "Oh, you weren't referring to the car were you?" rubbing his now stinging shoulder as she placed her hand back in her lap and glared at him.

They had been sitting in the car, on route to headquarters in silence, since leaving Ziva's apartment ten minutes previously.

Mistake number one had been when Tony furtively tried checking for any new scratches and dings as he waited for Ziva to lock her apartment. Mistake number two was underestimating that the Mossad agent would be standing right behind him as he quietly stroked the bonnet of the Mustang, asking if "the grumpy lady treated you right my baby, or did she drive you like taxi cab in rush hour traffic." Mistake number three, was trying to justify himself as he dug himself in deeper. The result, a hefty shove to the chest, which he was adament would leave a mark and an extremely moody car companion.

An uncomfortable silence filled the car again, as he reprocessed her question. She stared dead ahead, briefly lifting her hand to rub at the puckering line of stitches, wincing, as she pulled her hair back and into a pony tail.

"Perhaps, a little," he admitted slowly. "Your reaction definitely got the dining room buzzing, and well, I think you may have inadvertently swayed things to my advantage," he added with a chuckle.

"Too soon?" he asked looking over at her again, as she scowled, clenching and unclenching her fist.

"Yes, too soon." Was her clipped reply.

"Relax. Just walk in as if nothing is any different, and, we will deal with the bet if and when it comes up."

He paused: "Although, you do know that it is bound to come up… and well, the pot does seem pretty high."

"You don't think that perhaps they may be suspicious when they see us arriving in the same car together?" she asked, curtly.

"Of course not. The team knows that you left your car at the office on Friday, so it would make sense that I would drop by this morning and pick you up on the way," he reasoned.

"Except. It's not on the way, is it? It is the opposite side of town. And, who dropped you off yesterday?"

"Rii—ght. I had forgotten that minor detail," he added, nodding his head thoughtfully. "Well. Honesty is the best policy, isn't it? So, if they ask, and we know that they will ask – we will simply tell them the truth…."

"What, you came into my apartment, and wouldn't leave?"

He gave her a withering look. "I came to fetch my car, and realising that you wouldn't have a method of getting to work, offered you a lift. Simple, effective and leaves no room for questions." He nodded satisfactorily as they pulled up to the security gate.

"Although, there may be no need for such subterfuge – do you see Gibbs' or McGoo's car? I think we are the first ones here. Why Miss Da-vid, I think we may even be early."

.


	13. Chapter 13 Shades of Gray

**Disclaimer: same as every other chapter…**

A/N: We are heading towards the end now – just one or two more chapters, depending on how well the characters behave. Hope you are all still enjoying this and thanks for reading x K

* * *

_Recap: He gave her a withering look. "I came to fetch my car, and realizing that you wouldn't have a method of getting to work, offered you a lift. Simple, effective and leaves no room for questions." He nodded satisfactorily as they pulled up to the security gate. _

"_Although, there may be no need for such subterfuge – do you see Gibbs' or McGoo's car? I think we are the first ones here. Why Miss Da-vid, I think we may even be early." _

**

* * *

**

**Chapter thirteen - Shades of gray**

Ziva and Tony had been at their desks for 15 minutes, working in a comfortable silence, when McGee huffed up the stairs. Looking frantically at the lift doors that were still closed, he scampered across to his desk and just managed to sit, as the lift doors opened. "Gibbs. Just. Behind. Me. Made. It." he managed to get out between breathless gasps, as the other two looked at him strangely.

Gibbs sauntered into the bullpen, his customary coffee cup in his hand. He walked passed Tony's and Ziva's desks. Stopped in his tracks. Took a lengthily slug of his drink. Then retraced his steps and started walking back into the bullpen again. This time he stopped in front of Tony's desk. Staring at him, he took another swig of his coffee, before setting it down. Placing his palms on Tony's desk he leaned in, while the senior agent and the other two looked on in confusion. He stared at him for a few moments.

"Wet the bed DiNozzo?" he finally drawled.

McGee, having regained his breath and voice, piped up: "No – it's Ziva"

"Whaa-aat?" Three raised voices asked, as three sets of eyes swiveled round to face him, two pairs registered shock while the third was merely questioning.

Realizing what he had implied, McGee flushed red. "Well. What I mean is that… Well… Ziva's car was here, so Tony must have picked her up this morning and we all know how punctual Ziva is…" he trailed off.

Tony was the first to recover: "Right you are Obi-one-Mc-Proobie. In fact, I even made her breakfast while she was on her run," answered Tony. He turned to Ziva adding: "By the way, for an Intelligence officer, placing the spare key in a fake rock is perhaps not the brightest idea?"

"Right," snorted Ziva. "And the only reason you know that it is a fake stone Tony, is because you picked it up to break my window with it a few months back, if you remember correctly?" Following his lead.

The two glared at each other across their desks.

Gibbs nodded satisfactorily, as he walked to his desk. Nothing, at least outwardly, had changed. His agents were their usual bickering selves.

* * *

Tony and Ziva were tired of dodging work colleagues and questions. Having had no concrete response on who won the bet, the various staff had taken to subterfuge, or so they thought, quietly sneaking up on the two when they were least expecting it. When Tony and Ziva made the mid-morning coffee-run to their favorite cafe, they looked at astonishment when Paul, from evidence lock-up, was the one who served them, having convinced the usual staff that it was part of an undercover sting.

But, things came to a head when three "female" agents, one sporting facial hair and an Adam's apple, followed Ziva into the ladies bathroom to have a little girl chat about the "gorgeous guys in the office".

Gripping the agent by the ear, she yanked him, still in his heels and dress, out of the ladies and into the bullpen, as the other two followed sheepishly behind. Shoving him away from her, she climbed onto Tony's desk.

"Right, that is it. Listen up all of you, including you, yes you there, hiding there under that desk. The outcome of the bet will be announced tonight, 8pm at our regular pub. Until then – I don't want to see any of you. Now. Get. Back. To. Work."

"Just what I was about to say," Gibbs responded drily from behind the divider. "Gear up."

Ziva jumped down, glaring at Tony and McGee for not warning her. They just shrugged their shoulders and followed her and Gibbs out.

* * *

Luckily the case was pretty cut and dry. If the lieutenant's recently widowed wife, standing over her dead husband's body with the dripping murder weapon still in her hand didn't tip them off, her incantation of "I'm glad you are dead, you cheating bastard, and I would do it again in a heartbeat," certainly did. And by 7pm, they had her written confession, finished their reports and were ready to head down to the pub.

Abby had saved them a seat, which turned out to be necessary. The pub, usually quiet on a Monday night, was jammed packed with agents, not only from NCIS, but their neighboring government agencies. "Well, at least, we are responsible for inter-agency office relations," Tony muttered to Ziva as they pushed through the throng, who were all eyeing them out and whispering.

Pulling McGee to the side, they quickly conferred. It had already been unanimously decided (well, Tony and Ziva used their persuasive powers) that McGee would be the one to make the announcement, seeing as they believed he was the one responsible for the situation they currently found himself in. He had also agreed, albeit unwillingly, that he would be paying for their drinks – all week.

"Erm." He cleared his throat loudly. "Er erm," he tried again.

"Hay, yooohooo… Can you guys be quiet please – Tim has something to say," Abby piped up as the pub fell quiet. "There you go Tim, the floor is yours." She said chirpily.

"Gee, thanks Abs." He muttered, embarrassed that she had to step in to help him.

Standing up on his barstool, he stated: "Okay, so. I have spoken to both Tony and Ziva, and well, the decision is final - No clear winner, no clear loser." The bar erupted with comments. "Hay, no fair.", "That's cheating", "We all saw them dancing", "there is no way that that's purely plutonic."

Ziva stood up. "Actually, it's quite accurate. And besides, it wouldn't really be a challenge to seduce someone like Tony. It's too easy. Like taking candy from a monkey"

"It's a child Ziva, but they get the picture." Tony muttered, adding: "Quite frankly, this one is a little too calculating and violent for me." He braced himself as she punched his shoulder hard. "See, what I mean…" he whined as Ziva harrumphed and marched herself off to the bar.

Tony watched as McGee handed over a huge wad of cash to Gibbs, whose hand was already out and waiting.

"You bet against both of us? Man. That is cold."

Gibbs just shrugged. "Maybe I know the both of you better than you know yourselves," he responded as Tony choked on his bottle of beer.

Abby looked over at McGee sadly, her hand resting on her chin, her pigtails bobbing sadly. "I don't understand it. I really thought this would work. Where did we go wrong, Timmy?" she asked mournfully.

"I don't know Abs. But maybe it is for the best. I mean, look," he said pointing to where Tony was busy chatting up Macy the barmaid, and Ziva was being twirled on the makeshift dance floor by some unknown agent. Tony, catching Ziva's eye, pulled a tongue at her as she returned the gesture – less ladylike.

"At least, they haven't changed," Abby added, sighing. "I just wish they would realize what we already know, Timmy."

"Maybe, they are just not ready, Abs," said Gibbs, coming up behind her and gently kissing her on the head.

* * *

A few hours later, Ziva was pulling on a pair of sweats after stepping out the shower, when she heard the television go in her living room. Towel-drying her hair, she walked through to find Tony sitting comfortably on her couch, tie undone and an open beer in his hand.

She raised her eyebrow. "Used the spare key, I see?"

"So, do you think they bought it?" he asked, standing and walking over to her. She took the beer he was offering her and took a deep drink, before handing it back.

"Well, you did spend an extra-ordinary amount of time staring at Macy's chest," she responded.

"Keeping up appearances. You know, it is totally expected of Tony DiNozzo to chat up the bar staff." He retorted. "And what about you, I noticed that you seemed to be having a great time with all those amorous agents. Although, what happened to Taylor? One minute he was dancing with you, the next he was clutching at his mouth and running?" He asked staring down at her.

"You would think the man would learn." Ziva sighed. "I accepted his invitation to dance and he tried to thank me by sticking his tongue in my mouth. So I bit him." She answered matter-of-factly.

Tony just shook his head, before dipping to claim a soft kiss. He moved back to the couch and flopped down.

"Tony," she whispered, still standing in the middle of the room. "What are we doing?"

He purposefully chose to misunderstand her. "Well, I am sitting watching TV, drinking my beer. And you are going to fetch a drink and join me." He said, patting the seat next to him.

"Zi – we are having a normal night, like normal couples do," he added, watching her glower at him.

"We are not normal, Tony and it's time to admit that. I think that we need clear understanding and boundaries. Because, this," she broke off to spread her arms wide, "just complicates things."

He put his beer on the floor: "What complicates things? Emotions? Is it having a relationship that has you so freaked out, or is it the idea of a relationship with me? Things don't have to be black and white Ziva, life is all about the shades of grey."

"This is not how it was meant to be, Tony. We are having fun. We are attracted to each other and, it's good. Why change that, why do you have to complicate things?" she pleaded, worried about how this was going to end.

Tony stood. "It's not complicated Zi, in fact it's pretty straight forward. I don't want half of you, it's all or nothing. You decide."

And when she couldn't answer him, he walked out, closing the door behind him.


	14. Chapter 14 All or nothing

_Recap: "This is not how it was meant to be, Tony. We are having fun. We are attracted to each other and, it's good. Why change that, why do you have to complicate things?" she pleaded, worried about how this was going to end. _

_Tony stood. "It's not complicated Zi, in fact it's pretty straight forward. I don't want half of you, it's all or nothing. You decide." _

_And when she couldn't answer him, he walked out, closing the door behind him. _

**Chapter fourteen – All or nothing**

Tony was sitting at his desk, alone. The bullpen was empty, but he wasn't surprised, it _was _barely 7am.

What had surprised him was waking at 5am. Tony DiNozzo loves his sleep, the more he gets the happier he is. For a few minutes in that magical place somewhere between dreaming and lucidity he could have sworn he could feel Ziva's lithe body curved into his, could smell the scent of her and even, as he licked his lips, the taste of her. But that fleeting moment had vanished the instant he opened his eyes.

He laughed out loud then, at the fact that it had been just two mornings. Two mornings in probably the 12 775 that had spanned his life, but already he had grown accustomed to having her next to him.

He climbed out of bed, a quiet smile on his face and dressed for his run. If there was one thing about Tony DiNozzo that people tended to overlook – it was that he was a very patient man.

So, here he was at 7am, sitting at his desk, waiting.

At 7.10am Ziva walked in, her hair a bedraggled mess, dark rings under her eyes, her face pale and without the miniscule amount of make-up she had started to wear. She looked like hell.

If she was surprised to see him there that early, she didn't show it. Just looked around to see if anyone was watching, listening.

She stood in front of his desk, shoulders back and head high. Flicked her tongue out, wetting her lips, and then opened them, waiting for the words she had carefully formulated, both while awake and then in her exhausted, restless sleep.

She knew what she had to say: that he meant more to her than anything, anyone had, that he had crawled under her skin and remained there, like an irritation she couldn't cut out, even if she wanted to.

But she was broken, emotionally retarded, and couldn't love, or be loved by anyone. She wanted to say that she needed him to understand, to back down. That for them to do their jobs efficiently, effectively, they needed to find common ground. That she knew she was asking the impossible, but couldn't they just go back to who they used to be?

But his words stopped her, before any of hers left her mouth.

"Don't worry about it, we already have."

She looked at him, her mouth agape: "How… how did you know?"

"Because I know you, better than you know yourself," he answered, without a hint of arrogance.

"Now go and wash your face, you look like hell." He told her, gently, kindly, but with his usual DiNozzo candor.

She smiled gratefully, and pulling her hair into a ponytail, turned to walk away.

"Oh and Ziva," he stopped her. She stood with her back still to him, tensing to hear what he would say next: "Just so that we are clear. Last night, wasn't a one-time offer and doesn't have a sell-by date."

She slowly turned back to look at him. He walked around his desk, standing in front of her.

"This is the last time we will speak of it. As far as we, or the team, are concerned, things are as they always were. But when you are ready, and you will be," he nodded confidently. "You will come to me and I will be waiting."

Without commenting, she turned once more and started to walk away, a small smile flickering on her lips.

"Oh and put some make-up on," he yelled at her retreating back – "You are going to scare small children, looking like that…"

Without turning around, she lightly flicked her hip out, tapping it with her hand as his laugher followed her.

Things were back to normal – almost…

* * *

It was a hard week. A dark week. Oh, there had been some banter, the occasional flirty throw-away comment that had become synonymous with them, and the rest of the team. But, no one noticed that this was less frequent, more guarded that usual.

The case they had been investigating was hitting a little too close to home. Resurfacing memories that for some of them, were better locked away.

A Naval captain had been found brutally murdered. He had been hell-bent on revenge for an incident that had happened years previously, and had been hunting down the killers who were involved in drug smuggling and human trafficking. Revenge may have led him down this path, but ultimately, he sacrificed himself for what he believed to be the definitive cause – love.

He had managed infiltrate the gang, and convinced his First Lieutenant, a beautiful red-head, to act as a willing pawn in his game, to be abducted with the aim of being sold. The problem was the mission was completely under the radar. He compromised his cover and managed to get her out, but the gang didn't take kindly to double-crossers. Tracking him down, they tortured him, before cutting off his head, sending it priority mail to the naval yard where he had been stationed.

His First Lieutenant collapsed when she heard the news. They had an on-off relationship for years – one that thrived passion and fire – and of course utmost secrecy. She had yelled at him, calling him an ungrateful bastard whom she hated and wished she had never laid eyes on. Those were the last words she said to him.

Tearfully, she told the team that she never told him how she truly felt, that she thought he loved her, but he had died without ever knowing she loved him. She hadn't wanted emotions to get in the way of their job.

Gibbs managed to give her some sense of solace, having discovered that the Captain had filed for transfer to a nearby unit a few weeks prior to his death. He handed her the engagement ring and marriage license he found in the Captain's desk drawer. And, in a bittersweet ending, she revealed that she was 16 weeks pregnant with his son.

The captain's legacy would live on.

The case had touched each of them in different ways, and it was Abby who tearfully suggested a visit to their favorite drinking spot was in order now the case had been wrapped up. They all readily agreed, and were soon sitting in a booth, their drinks in front of them.

A few rounds later, and Tony insisted on playing a game of pool. He dragged Abby and McGee with him, and had managed to find a willing forth participant, after the others bailed out.

The busty blonde was definitely showing interest in Tony, trailing her long pale pink painted fingernails over his back as he leaned into his shot.

"Young Anthony seems to be the popular one tonight," Ducky remarked, as he returned from the bar with drinks for Gibbs, Ziva and himself, placing the bourbon down on the table.

"You sound surprised," was Ziva's caustic response, watching under heavy-lidded eyes, while pretending not to.

Tony sunk the ball, and glancing up, caught Ziva scrutinizing him. He grinned at her, shrugging his shoulders, as she turned her head back to the conversation at the table, blocking out the laughter coming from across the room.

Honestly, what did she expect? She asked herself, as she lifted her drink to her lips.

Abby and McGee, having trounced Tony and his new partner, decided to catch a late movie and left, arm-in-arm. The blonde still showing remarkable interest in Tony despite his obvious lack, wrote her name in lipstick on a bar napkin and stuffed it in his pocket as he bid her goodnight and returned to the booth.

Quietly, and without malice, he fished the napkin out, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the ashtray, never taking his eyes off Ziva as he did so. She picked up her glass and casually took another sip, as Tony said his goodbyes, a jaunty bounce in his step as he walked out the door.

Ducky, finished his last sip and also excused himself, leaving Ziva and Gibbs sitting in melancholy silence.

"This case reminded me of Jen," Gibbs said suddenly.

"Me too," Ziva responded.

Feeling brave, she asked: "What happened?"

Surprisingly, he answered her: "Ziver, I don't know. But, I do know that it will be my greatest regret, not telling Jen what she meant. Too late for me now." He added, sadly, standing up.

"But not for you," he whispered as he leant over and kissed the top of her head, leaving her lost in her own thoughts.

* * *

An hour later, Tony opened his front door to find Ziva standing there, her rucksack slung casually over her shoulder. He stepped back allowing her in and closed the door behind her.

He poured her a glass of wine while she put her bag down in the bedroom.

He wasn't sure what this visit meant, but knew she would tell him in her own time - and she did in her own way.

A visit to the bathroom revealed her toothbrush, sitting in the cup next to his. Turning, he saw her standing at the doorway.

"I have enough regrets, I don't want to add another one," she said quietly.

* * *

"I have more stuff than you," he said out of the blue one night while lying in bed.

She lifted her head off his chest, and looked at him, trying to make out his face in the darkness lit only by the moon shining in through the window: "What does that mean?"

"It makes sense for you to move here, as I have more stuff than you." He added nonchalantly, still trailing his hand up and down her bare back.

She didn't answer him; just put her head back on his chest and Tony wondered if he had pushed her too far.

They hadn't spent a night apart in a week, alternating between apartments.

At work, they kept things professional, but the flirty looks, trick playing and banter was back in full force. Even Gibbs couldn't help but laugh when they ganged up on McGee yet again. This time gluing shut his filing cabinet, sniggering as he balanced, one foot up on the cabinet, desperately trying to pry it open before realizing that he had been had.

They arrived in separate cars and left at different times. It wasn't as if they were trying to hide anything, they just didn't change who they were.

Tony was late leaving the office the next night. He had wasted time making paper airplanes instead of finishing his work, irritating his colleagues as he dive-bombed them. Ziva had threatened his manhood with his own envelope opener, but he just smirked a response. Although, he then concentrated purely on McGee, preferring to leave Ziva alone - just in case she wasn't joking.

Now, he was paying the price, with a pile of paperwork that needed completion.

Ziva was the first to leave, calling goodnight as she walked out the bullpen, no backward glance, no special look.

It was after nine when he arrived at his apartment, the smell of home-cooked food wafting out the kitchen window.

He opened the door and nearly fell over a box of books sitting in the doorway. Steadying himself, he shifted the box to one side, eyeing it cautiously.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he taste-tested the pasta sauce simmering on the stove, before walking into the living room.

Something was different, and then he realized what it was. Next to his collection of photographs, were new ones – a picture of two young children, who he realized must be Ziva and her sister Tali, and one of the team he hadn't seen before.

He grinned. Now it felt like home.

He opened his arms, pulling Ziva into his embrace tightly. She smiled up at him, her eyes saying everything he needed to hear.

They weren't conventional, they weren't normal – but then again, who was?

* * *

The rest of the week was uneventful. No new cases gave the team time to catch up. It was late Friday afternoon, when Gibbs walked into the bullpen and suggested that the team go for dinner – he was paying. McGee, Tony and Ziva all looked up in surprise as Gibbs fanned a wad of money.

"Ahh, the ill-gained winnings," Tony muttered, still smarting over the fact that Gibbs bet against him.

"Well, you don't have to come, if you don't want to," was Ziva's retort. He raised his eyebrows as she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Lani is meeting us there in 15. McGee, get Abby. Ziva, call Ducky and Jimmy and see if they want to join us." Gibbs ordered.

"On it, Boss." They both stood, picked up their gear and left the bullpen.

Tony moved to follow them.

"Tony," Gibbs said, calling him back.

He turned, his backpack hanging over his shoulder as Gibbs pulled something wrapped from behind his desk and handed it to him.

"Boss?" he questioned.

"Housewarming," Gibbs replied, strolling past him.

"But, I've been in the same apartment for the last eight years," Tony responded, confused.

"Yes, but Ziva hasn't," Gibbs smirked as the lift doors closed.

**The end**

A/N: To all who have read this, thank you for joining me on my journey. And thank you for all your reviews. They are what have encouraged me. I hope I have provided a fitting ending. I'm sorry, I just couldn't have Ziva and Tony gushing to each other, loudly declaring undying love – it just didn't seem like something they would do. I'd like to think that their love is one of those that doesn't always need words – it's just something they feel, they know… it's in their eyes.

Please leave a review, I'd love to know how you feel about this ending…


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